


Here with me

by AllTheSnakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crobby - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheSnakes/pseuds/AllTheSnakes
Summary: Set after season 12 final. Crowley and Bobby meet again and Crobby must ensue.





	1. The arrival

Crowley moved slightly, his mind fuzzy.

Not a 'bollocks-what-just-hit-me?!' fuzzy.

More like a 'yeah, just like that!' fuzzy.

He was lying on his side, totally relaxed.

He moved again, for the sensation of his cheek brushing against the fluffy thing under it.

It was like a caress – something soft and warm – and he couldn’t resist but make a whole-body shift and try to get that delicious sensation all over his skin.

It worked. 

That was definitively some of the best bed linen he had ever had against him.

That was nice. 

Specially because he was naked. 

Good quality sheets were something he rarely enjoyed for the sheer pleasure of it, once he didn’t sleep, so-

Wait.

If he didn’t sleep, why was he feeling like he had just woken from a much needed slumber?!

And wasn’t he just now in front of Lucifer, in an alternate reality, using a blade in himself to complete a ritual and close an interdimensional gate?!

Crowley opened his eyes without moving his body.

(No sense in calling unwanted attention to himself while he had no idea where he was and if there was someone watching.)

First thing that called his attention was that he was in a well-lit room.

There probably was an enormous window somewhere, but he couldn’t tell for sure: every surface was well defined and clear, no shadows in sight – almost as if the light didn’t come from one or more sources, but was involving everything.

There was some furniture he could see, with shelves that covered the walls from floor to roof, filled with old books.

There was a strangely captivating battered armchair, too.

The scents in the air were a mix of old paper, pine, grass after rain, coffee and something else that seemed familiar.

For a moment, Crowley almost remembered from where he knew those things.

It was like the whole setting was mismatched: the objects were familiar, but not totally recognizable; the sensations were recognizable, but he couldn’t associate those nice scents and the comfortable bed linen involving his nude meatsuit with any precise memory.

And that engulfing light was just disconcerting. 

Every detail focused and sharp in its perfection.

Wait again.

Perfection?

Old books and a cheap but comfortable armchair?

What-

There was movement in the bed behind him, and he tensed.

Something was making the covers shift. 

A warm hand settled on his naked hip, ‘Will you calm down, idjit?’

Crowley didn’t turn.

He could barely speak.

‘Robert?’, he whispered.

‘Who else?’

The hand travelled confidently to his front, stopping over his heart.

Crowley was pulled, gently but firmly, against a broad chest. 

Once he was naked, he could feel that his bed companion was nude, too, in every hairy part of that body that pressed against his.

He gulped down, torn between the instinct to attack before whatever was happening turned into a nightmare and the oh, dear sensation of the warm male body against his back.

He made the necessary effort to rationalize the situation.

The Robert Singer he knew would never attack him without warning. He even warned before shooting, showing the gun and demanding for Crowley to leave. Of course, the demon never left, and the hunter shot him, as it had been properly announced.

(Robert was a man of his word. One of the reasons to like him.)

So, Crowley should not feel menaced by being naked and vulnerable, his back to someone who might be Bobby Singer or someone with knowledge enough to mimic him.

However, the Robert Singer he knew would never share a bed with the King of Hell in those delicate terms.

They had something brief, mainly while Crowley had the other’s man soul, and it was usually quite one-sided – in the sense that it was the demon who initiated every tryst, the hunter kind of ‘permitted’ himself to be seduced every time, the sex was quite quick and never discussed or mentioned in other contexts.

Their bond had been surprisingly strong, given the non-spoken rules and the hectic circumstances. 

Even after Sam and Dean were back to the hunter’s life and assisted Robert into getting his soul back, hunter and demon still met some times for something quite similar to make-up sex: Crowley had his pride wounded by being outsmarted, and to say he was annoyed when Robert summoned him, in the very next day of the redone contract, was not enough to describe his aggravation.

He expected to face a bragging redneck.

However, he had been called for a drink and to share stories on the last adventures they had been involved.

Soon Crowley realized it was the human’s way to say they were square.

Any suspicions he could have of a hidden agenda disappeared, and the demon was forced to admit that his attraction to that man was not Fate mocking him, making him bond with a surly hunter who was literate enough just to serve as reference to hunters more ignorant than him. That night, Crowley found out one of the things about Bobby that most engaged him was exactly the cultured and civilized mind under those layers of plaid and redneckery.

So, instead of feeding his previous thoughts of ambushing or manipulating Bobby Singer, that encounter made Crowley accept he had a lot to admire and respect in the man who invited him in. 

Besides, he couldn’t really deny how enticing it was that a human had managed to win a battle of wits and strategy against a three-hundred old demon. He even wondered if it could give sex between them a new layer of understanding. 

If they ever indulged in that again, after the menaces exchanged. 

Crowley would deny it forever, but he thought their intimate routine was over not mainly because of the give me my soul or I’ll burn your bones thing, but because Robert had found out about his human past, and the demon found it truly mortifying. 

All about his past embarrassed him: the miserable and mediocre existence in Scotland; the stupid tentative of a way out selling his soul; what he chose to sell his soul for; the relationship with Gavin.

The simple fact that his child had been so wretched that the only opportunity to build something better for himself ended in the deep of the ocean was mortifying in itself.

It was like his whole past had a stench of failure all over it, and now that Robert knew the details, being in Crowley’s presence would bring that stench to the front lines, and their chemistry would be gone. 

To his surprise, those things were never mentioned after Bobby got his soul back. It was like that info had had its utility and should not be brought up again. It didn’t hang between them, and when the demon realized, they were back to the nice companionship that often ended in bed.

(Or in that armchair that now he remembered, or in the old sofa, or in the kitchen table, or in the desk.) 

And, to add insult to injury, Robert never used the fact they had sex to get anything from Crowley: he didn’t ask for his soul in exchange of it, even when he could have done it; he didn’t ask special favors for the boys or for any hunter, like protection or guarantees against demons.

Robert Singer had been the King’s lover and never tried to use it to his benefit.

How could Crowley, who had been used to a whole existence of backstabbing, manipulation and lies, not get attached to such a gentleman?

Unfortunately, things happened, and they stopped seeing each other.

It was never officially over, but between Leviathans and Crowley’s unexpected difficulties in the rise to power, both were too occupied to have safe meetings. 

Bobby’s death was the final blow to Crowley’s already messed up mind, and things went downhill from there. 

(The demon preferred not to think of what he had done then. He surely was not proud of most of those things, nowadays.)

So, he had had a reasonably – for his standards – healthy relationship with Bobby, based on mutual respect and interests; however, Crowley was certain that, even with his surprising character arch of fighting besides the Winchesters and dying for them, it was not enough for him to be received in the arms of the hunter, wherever they were, for cuddling.

That is why he couldn’t make his mind about the whole situation being dangerous or just plain crazy.

He should be seriously pondering on getting out of those arms and demand answers. 

And he would do it.

Sure.

As soon as possible.

He just had to decide if the best strategy was shoving the man away or just turning over and facing him. 

He could take his sweet time to reach a decision, couldn’t he?

Nothing too bad would happen if he just stayed in those arms a bit more, would it?

He had gone through so many things, considering the sacrificing thing and all that jazz. 

Just a bit more, and I’ll- 

Lips reached the side of his neck, nipping, and a shot of pleasure reached his groin.

A beard touched the sensitive spot behind his ear’s vessel, and he rolled his eyes in pleasure.

Crowley was taken by memories of their times together.

The long chats before having sex.

The mix of teasing and silent understandings.

The exchange of knowing looks and heated stares.

The freely given information on hunts and demonic affairs.

The random stories on life experiences that uncovered surprising facts about the other.

(‘How many languages do you speak, Singer?!’ 

‘What? Your Highness doubted a human could know so much?’)

Not even mentioning the chemistry in bed.

How could he foresee, when he approached Singer for a deal, that he would be so engaged to that man?

It had been a very short thing, given their different paths in life. However, it marked Crowley so deeply that when he was informed Bobby had died he took his soul and kept it in Hell, in a secluded cell.

That was why he had taken the man’s soul before it could reach Heaven – he wished they could make up for the lost opportunities.

That was why he kept that soul in a back room of Hell, as much far from the worst tortures as he could without raising suspicions.

One of his biggest regrets was not leaving his crazy pursuing of power aside for time enough to talk to Robert and convince him to stay in Hell, by his side. 

At that point, the King would have offered anything for the man’s company.

Crowley had taken that soul for granted, and things seemed to be under control. However, Sam Winchester managed to rescue Bobby and Naomi made sure to give his soul access to Heaven. Soon afterwards, Crowley himself was almost cured in the third trial, he got addicted to human emotions through blood and his suffering for losing the companionship he had built with Robert hurt even more.

The demon had never felt something like that and had no idea how to deal with it, besides staying close to grumpy Dean and generally grouchy Sam; so he did it and managed to go on with his existence.

It was again miserable and generally empty, but he was the bloody King of Hell.

He could cope.

He could live with the crumbs the Winchesters gave him – they were the closest to Robert he could ever be, now. 

Licks were added to the nipping on the side of his neck, the hand on his chest caressed and a powerful arousal, laced with the missing he had painfully buried inside him, made Crowley close his eyes and sigh.

Something told him he should stop it, but it was a distant alarmed voice that was not rational enough to bring up any decent arguments.

The man parted from him, and Crowley opened his eyes, surprised at the sudden lack of contact.

The hand on his chest pressed and he complied, sheets falling to his waist when he moved accordingly.

And there they were: Crowley, on his back, staring up at Bobby Singer, who was laying on his side and staring back at him.

The hunter’s hand travelled up from Crowley’s chest to his neck.

Crowley gulped, mild panic from the possibility of violence and the fact he could not find the strength to defend himself.

He was too eager and curious to see what happened next. No way he was interrupting this.

The hand went up to caress his jaw.

The feathery touch made Crowley’s eyes go huge.

The hand reached the side of his head, fingers entwining deliciously in his hair.

Crowley, against his better instincts, moaned.

Bobby smiled and leaned forward slowly, giving the other man time to brace for the kiss.

Their lips touched.

And that was when Crowley’s world exploded.

It couldn’t be more different from their first kiss – the one that had sealed the deal.

That one had started so awkward it gave the demon the idea of taking a photo just to mess with the hunter afterwards. However, as if Bobby had suddenly realized he had nothing to lose, it turned into a passionate lip-lock, massaging tongues and all.

(Crowley had paid dearly for mentioning that Robert had used tongue in front of the Winchesters, by the way.

However, paying dearly was something he couldn’t say he minded, in the way they related to each other.) 

That being said, this kiss didn’t start awkward and didn’t turn into pent-up passion. 

It started delicate, like a greeting to someone you cherish and is back to you after some unbearable time apart, and grew intimate, as if their tongues had a life of their own and had to meet and embrace.

That sensation of bliss came back full force, and Crowley’s whole body tingled.

His hesitation disappeared, the alarmed voice quieted down, and he found himself acting on desire and instinct: one of his hands reached to feel the hunter’s back, one of his legs moved to brush against the other man’s calves.

He was so taken by every delicious sensation it took him some moments to realize the hand that had been cradling his head was now travelling down.

When it teased his nipples, he whimpered.

When it palmed his stomach, he groaned in despair.

When it touched his penis, he jumped off the bed and stood at the opposite wall, as out of reach as he could.

Crowley could feel the heart of his meatsuit beating madly, his face blushed, his arousal pulsing.

He looked around, desperate for something to cover himself and feel at least a bit less exposed.

The man in the bed – muscular and beefy and hairy and for all that is damned, focus! – pushed off the sheets and sat. Dead serious, he picked a pillow and showed it to Crowley, ‘You can use it’.

He threw the pillow and Crowley immediately put it over his middle.

And now he was standing, a perfectly white fluffy pillow in front of him, while facing a shameless naked and hard Robert Singer, who reached the edge of the bed and sat there, an understanding expression on his face.

Those serene blue eyes settled on him were unnerving, to say the least.

‘Want me to speak first, or you already have your marbles organized enough to formulate a question?’, Bobby asked.

Crowley was so shocked by the calmness he couldn’t even speak. 

And he wanted to, once he had a million questions.

Seeing the struggle so plain in his face got a reaction from Bobby.

He smiled.

It was such a tender smile that the barriers in Crowley’s mind were undone and, out of renewed panic, he managed talking.

‘Who are you?!’

‘I’m Robert Singer, Fergus’, the smile turned into a smirk, ‘I thought waking up like that would help you recognize me, but it seems I was wrong’.

‘You planned all this to make me feel at ease?’, at the other’s nodding, Crowley squinted, ‘Because, as far as I remember, we never cuddled!’

‘You always went away right after I was done’, was the simple answer, ‘Never had the opportunity’, Bobby shrugged, ‘Sue me for taking a chance now’.

‘You really want me to believe that this…’, Crowley had a hard time looking for demeaning adjectives, ‘…sickening sweet thing is Robert Singer’s making and not an entity trying to fool me?’, he scoffed, ‘I may have turned soft, but I am not an idiot’.

‘You turned soft already?’, Bobby looked pointedly to the pillow covering the other man’s middle, ‘I remember you not being easily uninterested’, he wiggled his brows, ‘Age didn’t do good to you’.

Crowley made a face at the innuendo.

Bobby got up from the bed.

Crowley gave a step behind, thinking the other had the intention of walking to him.

However, Robert stayed where he was and started stretching.

And now Crowley wished the hunter had walked towards him, so he could put a fight over the man’s intentions, because that thing – watching while Singer stretched his muscles lazily –, was renewing his arousal and just generally getting to him.

The colors around them changed to something that seemed suspiciously like twilight coming from the big window behind the bed. 

The new lightening made every layer of hair on that body turn into an attractive soft thing Crowley was just dying to touch.

And what to say about those muscles? 

And the familiar bulge of that stomach?

And those shoulders?

‘H-how…’, he had to gulp down to be able to speak, ‘How did you do it?’

‘Did what?’, Bobby focused on him, saw the gesture to the window and turned around to take a look at the shiny red sun in the horizon.

(The new position showed off his muscled back and nice ass, and Crowley licked his lips and clenched his fists on the pillow to deal with the things the image was doing to him.)

Bobby turned back, ‘You mean the change in light?’

Crowley nodded, his throat dry.

‘I like it, and I can do anything, here’, the man smirked, ‘We are in my Heaven’.


	2. Into my arms

‘Come again?’, Crowley asked, holding up a hand for good measure.

‘Come?’, the hunter raised his brows innocently, ‘I thought you wanted to talk’.

‘What?’, the former King of Hell realized he was being teased and relaxed a bit, rolling his eyes, ‘Bollocks. I’m not ready to deal with an over-sexualized version of Robert Singer’.

Bobby chuckled, ‘Then it’s good we have all the time in the world for you to get used to it’.

‘How is that so?’, a suspicious brow was raised, ‘Is this Heaven so yours that you don’t have to answer to anyone on the guests you bring on or how they behave?’ 

Bobby regarded Crowley from head to toe, as if contemplating his answer.

He was very serious when he spoke, ‘May I get closer?’

‘Why?’

‘I want to see you better, Little Red Riding Hood’, Bobby gestured as if annoyed, but had an amused smile on his face, ‘What else?’

‘That’s not what I asked, Big Bad Wolf…’

Crowley spoke and lost his train of thought.

The intention had been just answering in kind, but calling Robert a wolf when he was all hairy and bulky and naked and reachable brought up all types of sexual ideas.

Crowley averted his eyes, ‘Please, would you get back the would-be-blind-in-any-other-circumstances light we had before? This countryside gloom palette is distracting’.

The change happened immediately, with the window disappearing and the lightening back to engulfing every side of everything.

Crowley nodded in gratitude, breathed deeply and seized the opportunity to take a quick glance at his surroundings and check if anything had changed, besides the window.

No: they still were in a room with walls covered by shelves filled with books, the very well-known armchair…

And a huge bed.

Someone must have great expectations.

He looked at Bobby again, ‘What I want to know is why you are asking for permission to come closer if it’s…’, he scowled, making a derisive gesture around, ‘…your Heaven’.

The man in front of him seemed to find his disgusted attitude quite curious, ‘The place is mine, but yourself said you are my guest’, he waited for Crowley to nod in understanding, ‘Felt like being a polite host would help you forgive the times I threatened you with shots of rock salt and make you more willing to stay’.

Crowley raised both hands, this time, ‘Forgive?’

The gesture lifted the pillow, and he quickly settled it back in place.

Bobby smirked at the scene, but didn’t comment, ‘That would be a good start’.

‘You want me to forgive you?’

‘One can hope’.

‘What the Hell is happening here?!’, Crowley lost all control he had managed until then and raised his voice, ‘After all I did to you and your boys?! After all the double-crossing and half-truths and soul-kidnapping, you think I should forgive you?!’

Robert gave the necessary steps to reach him and rested a hand delicately on his arm, looking straight into his eyes, ‘Calm down, Fergus’.

Crowley gave a startled step behind, freeing his arm and making sure to not lose the pillow, and growled, ‘The Robert I knew never called me that’.

‘I did, once’, his face was solemn, ‘In bed’.

There was a shocked silence.

That was probably the memory Crowley had made the most effort to not indulge in. 

‘You remember that, don’t you?’, Bobby asked, his head tilted, his eyes searching Crowley’s, ‘It slipped in a moment when I didn’t have exactly the clearest of minds’, he gave a small smile and stepped closer, ‘I didn’t regret it, but you never commented on it and I never had the guts to bring it on’, another step, right into the shorter man’s personal space, ‘Spent more time than I really had to spare wishing I knew why it felt so good and if you had enjoyed it as much as it looked like at the time’.

Crowley was mesmerized.

Yes, he remembered that very well: the mixed feelings on being treated like a human in such an intimate moment, the notion that there was something going on under his nose that he couldn’t understand but was related to the possibility of him and Robert forging a sincere emotional bond.

A hunter and a demon.

It hadn’t made sense, then.

But now there was something that felt like background noise and gave meaning to what happened between them. 

The things they did to each other were unmistakable words and gestures of people who cared. In Robert’s Heaven they could talk about those things, what was more than Crowley could have imagined when he spent hours nursing a drink and wondering what could have been if they were given more time.

His eyes left the blue ones of the human in front of him and settled on the lips.

His forehead creased and his fists clenched on the pillow.

It was starting to hurt not to kiss that man again.

He wanted to believe this was real, even if every life (and unlife) experience told him that things that seemed too good were, probably, very cruel and well elaborated traps.

Well, not every experience.

Not the ones with this man.

Bobby lifted a hand slowly, making clear he intended again to rest it on Crowley’s forearm.

Still convinced it was reasonable to resist any advances, Crowley tried to step away one more time, but then realized he was cornered.

He frowned in confusion, finding out now there was a clean wall behind him, no signal of any shelves or books.

‘It’s a hunter’s Heaven’, Bobby gave his trademark shy tentative smile and completed the gesture, resting the hand on the forearm, ‘Sorry for the ambush, but I think it’s time for you to stop running from me’.

Crowley looked at the hand on his skin and squared his shoulders, supporting his back on the cool wall and trying to deal with the sudden shiver the new sensations created.

Bobby’s fingertips caressed delicately.

‘I see you decided to take control’, Crowley gulped and made the sassiest face possible under the circumstances, ‘Let’s find out what you intend to do with it’.

‘I can do anything to our surroundings’, Bobby answered, trailing soothing patterns up the arm and getting closer to the shoulder, ‘But it doesn’t really matter’.

The shivers came back – one more proof that this was really Robert, once making his meatsuit trembling in desire under delicate touches was one of the intimate and unspoken things he knew about the demon – and Crowley closed his eyes at the hand gently caressing the side of his neck, ‘What is that supposed to mean, Robert?’

‘It means the one thing I have no control over is the one that matters’.

Crowley sighed, his head tilted in a reckless desire to offer more spots to be touched. 

The offer was accepted, and the fingers sprawled to touch his ear, the line of his jaw and to feel his pulse point on the neck.

He opened his eyes to watch Bobby through heavy lashes.

His breathing was ragged at the closeness, and he wondered if being in a celestial realm made the illusion of bodies more sensitive to good things.

The possibilities were exciting.

Bobby’s free hand settled on the middle of Crowley’s chest, ‘This one’.

‘Uhm?’, he had no idea what they had been talking about, anymore.

‘I have no control over this’.

Crowley tensed, raising his head in alert, ‘You wish you had?’

‘Not really’, Bobby smiled, ‘This is not about having it the easy way. It’s-’

‘You want it to stop, don’t you?’

‘What?’

‘You wish you could stop the heart in my meatsuit’, an unexpected grip of fear twisted Crowley’s guts at the realization, ‘I’m powerless, in Heaven’, he looked away, ‘Now you could get rid of me’.

‘Jesus! How can you think that?!’

Crowley risked a glance at Bobby, but averted his eyes again at the worry in the face in front of him.

He was already fighting tears; seeing the fake concern would just make it hurt more, and he couldn’t afford being so exposed.

He must focus. 

He was facing Robert – the human who had fascinated him, the human he never tried to hurt – and it was naturally difficult not to hope there was something good going on here.

He should have known better, but there was something about Robert that got Crowley off-balance since forever.

It was not exactly a surprise that he had fallen for that, again.

However, he was starting to see the truth, now.

This was just a game.

Robert Singer had seen him vulnerable, and not in the purified-blood-injections sense, but in the throes-of-passion sense, what was many times worse regarding how exposed someone could be. 

The angels must have understood this weakness ran deeper than his addiction, and chosen the hunter’s soul to give him the punishment they thought he deserved. 

‘Fergus?’

Crowley frowned painfully at the familiar voice saying his human name.

Involving Robert was too low, even for angels.

They were pretending to give him everything he wanted just to take it away through some sick game.

‘Tell me what’s in your mind, so I can explain myself’.

Crowley heard it, but there was nothing he could say.

He didn’t believe any words could make a difference.

No one ever really cared for him; Robert probably came closer than any other being, but still it was better not to mention it and not break the fragile illusion the demon permitted himself to have. 

There was a reason why Crowley never stayed after sex: he feared they would talk and end up discussing what happened during the act, and he needed to avoid the embarrassment to face the things he showed when his shields were down.

He looked at Bobby and shook his head.

The old fear of finding out what he already suspected wrenched his guts.

If he had his powers he would be already gone.

(Like that time when he broke a knight of Hell’s spear and saved Castiel, and suddenly he had a bunch of Winchesters and an angel of the Lord staring at him in incredulity.

Crowley disappeared when the silent stretched enough to be uncomfortable. He didn’t want to stay and face the fact whatever they had to say to him would be some forced words of gratitude, once they didn’t really like him.

Never did, never would.

No matter what he did.)

‘Hey’, Bobby put his hands on the sides of Crowley’s face to make sure they locked eyes, ‘I’ve been living here by myself for a long time. I thought bringing you into bed with me would be a good start, and it wasn’t. I’m not sure what I can say or do to put you at ease’.

There was undeniable worry in those blue eyes.

Crowley realized, suddenly, that no matter the plot going on and the role Robert had in it, he would surrender to the longing.

He always did, when that human was regarded. 

Every time Crowley decided to visit Robert he promised himself it would be the last. He repeated in his own head that having a hunter as a lover was stupid and dangerous. He arrived at the old house in the yard ready to satisfy urgent carnal desires and say goodbye to this useless and derogatory liaison.

But then Robert offered him a drink, good conversation, very enjoyable company; the demon felt comfortable and trusting, eager to be generous and tender; it all leaded to intense sex. 

How could he not indulge again?

At the first boring reunion or endless contracts readings or just some time by himself after bearing stupid and uninteresting demons, he was already craving for Singer’s company and hoping he could go to that place in Sioux Falls where he felt at home.

And then he remembered his absence would be noticed by his minions, and the cycle of convincing himself he should put a stop on that started anew.

But being upside was always a relief.

Being upside with Robert had been like… well…

A piece of Heaven.

Crowley moved a bit, restless under Bobby’s seemingly infinite patience while he searched for something to say.

The former King of Hell settled for a confession, ‘I’m conflicted’.

‘Good’, Bobby saw the frown and hurried to explain himself, ‘You’re assessing your feelings. You’re talking. We’re working together in this. That’s good. That’s what we need. Go on’.

Crowley nodded, breathed deeply to get in the mood for clarifying things and spoke, ‘I can’t believe you want me here, intruding in your Heaven’.

‘You’re not intruding. You are my guest, remember?’

‘Let’s suppose I believe it’, he admitted, ‘I don’t understand how I can even be here’.

‘How do you think someone ends in Heaven?’

‘Being the righteous person I never was?’

‘Not exactly’, Bobby nodded in encouragement, ‘Try again’.

Crowley squinted, ‘Knowing the right people?’

‘That’s a good one, but not exactly the point, in your case – even if I am kind of your ticket, I couldn’t bring you up here through the sheer force of my will’.

Crowley frowned and shook his head, at a loss of what to say.

Bobby rolled his eyes, ‘Deserving it, Fergus’.

It was like time had stopped.

Crowley froze, silent, mouth open in shock.

The damn tears he had managed to subside came back full force.

‘What kind of torture is this?’, he spoke in a choked voice, ‘Have you been watching me from here, Singer? That’s how you knew what to say?’, he pushed the other man away hastily, ‘That’s the catch! You saw me pathetic and weak, spilling my disgusting feelings because of your dear Sam’s purified blood, and you’ll use what you found out against me!’, he pointed an accusing finger, ‘You almost had me th-’

The room started shaking, and both men looked around, startled.

Crowley frowned, using the extended arm with the pointing finger to hold on to the nearest wall, ‘Is it me?’

‘Yes, but not what you must be thinking’, Bobby answered, ‘It’s not demonic. It’ll stop once you calm down’.

The shaking went on.

‘Fergus…’

‘I AM CALM!’

‘No, you’re not’.

‘How can you say?!’, Crowley hissed, ‘Are you reading my bloody mind?!’

The hunter looked at the demon for some moments, then seemed to reach a decision.

He covered the distance between them in quick strides, ‘Come here’.

Crowley was not able to react, and the white pillow was now the only thing separating them, once Robert had enveloped him in a tight hug.

His body tensed. He wanted to recoil, but Singer’s arms were holding him firmly in a strong embrace – hands settled on his back as if they could anchor him. 

One of Crowley’s hands grabbed the pillow with all his might, while the other kept in the air, letting go of the wall but not sure of where to go next.

‘Being calm is more than not wanting to rip off someone’s eyes’, Bobby spoke softly in his ear, ‘It’s being fearless not because you guess you can fight someone, but because you know you’re safe’, a soothing hand went up on his spine and reached his hair, the other staying on the middle of his back, ‘You must believe you don’t have to defend yourself from me’.

Crowley tried to regulate his breathing.

Robert, even when their touches were mostly sex-oriented, had always had a peculiar warmth. Things would get heated and uncontrolled, but Crowley never felt invaded, pierced or violated. 

(That’s how the damned hunter had found out the demon enjoyed gentle touches, by the way.)

This new and irresistible combo of moves and words seeped easily through Crowley, and he was on the verge of taking the leap of faith.

‘I can’t do it for you’, Bobby sighed, ‘You must believe I don’t want to hurt you’.

Crowley never knew how much he wanted to hear that.

It had never happened to him. 

He never heard nice words from people he cared for. 

He had been abused by the only person he ever really trusted, in his human life – his mother –, and still he did everything he could to make her proud. He learned how to juggle, he helped with the animals, he stayed put and obedient when she left him saying she would be back soon.

She never praised him. She never took care of him properly.

She never came back.

The fear of abandonment tainted every relationship he had while he was the sorry excuse of a human that was Fergus McLeod.

As a demon, he soon realized that even the ones who pretended to enjoy his company with clear ulterior motives didn’t understand him: they kept stressing how wicked or powerful he was, as if he should feel praised by that.

Why would he feel praised for being useful?

Yes, he enjoyed being a businessman. He liked the power of being cunning and competent. He loved the integrity of deals made according to the rules and followed to the end.

But, at the end of the day, he could be surrounded by as many entities as he wished – in the living room of one of his many mansions or in his throne room in Hell –, but deeply inside he knew he was lonely and underappreciated. 

But then he met Robert Singer, and the hunter wanted him. 

Just like that. 

No blackmail that involved their secret relationship, no lies about their attraction. 

When they were by themselves, they would chat and share a drink and explore the other’s body and it didn’t serve to any other purpose than to enjoy it together.

At the understanding that a new chance of having that was worth the leap, Crowley relaxed.

His arm lowered and hugged Bobby back.

The shaking of the room subsided.

‘That’s it’, there was an obvious smile in the voice in his ear, ‘I don’t know what went through your mind, but you’re on point’.

Crowley adjusted his head on the crook between Bobby’s head and shoulder and sighed, ‘You’re lucky I’m clever’.

‘Yeah’, the hand on his back made slow circular motions, ‘And I’m counting on it’.

The moment stretched.

The shaking stopped completely, but neither made any gesture to separate.

‘Tell me’, Crowley resumed the conversation, his body relaxing further against the other man and starting to enjoy the contact, ‘If I don’t have any powers, how my inner whatever could affect your Fantasy Island?’ 

‘You don’t have demonic powers, but you just can be here because you have a soul again’, there was a pause, ‘I know about the unfinished trial and all that human blood you injected. The angels showed me when they came to tell me you had died’.

‘Not exactly proud of being a junkie’, Crowley spoke low, ‘But not as much regretful as I probably should’.

‘That’s ok’, Bobby whispered back, ‘You wanted the feels, you got them. Not by far the worst decision you ever made’, he hugged a bit tighter, ‘It may even be the best, if you consider it made possible for you to be here’.

Crowley accepted the reasoning, ‘All’s well that ends well’.

‘That’s the spirit’, Bobby placed a light kiss on Crowley’s shoulder.

The gentle gesture made him sigh, ‘Speaking of spirits, wasn’t Heaven closing because there were few angels?’, the ex-demon resumed the conversation, ‘How did they manage to keep going in a power crisis?’ 

‘Souls are a powerful source of energy’.

‘Enough to keep this going?’, he frowned, ‘Even with former demonic souls?’

The fact Crowley was again focused on understanding what was going on calmed him down completely, and the room not just stopped shaking, but acquired a calming lower light.

A creaking sound made him turn his head.

Bobby got the gesture wrong and started parting from him, but Crowley pulled him back, ‘Not yet, please’.

‘My pleasure’, Bobby kissed the other’s temple and settled back into the embrace, ‘Something startled you?’

‘You conjured a fireplace’, Crowley permitted himself to nuzzle against Bobby’s neck, ‘Keep on talking, pet. I can hear you while I deal with your new magic abilities’.

Bobby chuckled and complied, ‘It took some convincing, but the winged idjits agreed to accept the obvious on Heaven’s situation’.

‘And that would be?’

‘If what kept the place going on was angels and souls being happy, we needed to gather more angels and make the souls happier, whatever it took’.

‘Makes sense’.

‘To be happy in eternity, the souls are kept inside illusions. Each person gets the Paradise they wish for, based on their best memories. They produce happy energy that feeds the machine, and the machine helps with info for accurate illusions’.

‘Uhum. Everybody wins’.

‘Yeah. The angels’ graces kept things working, and when their numbers went down, bad memories started surfacing in the personal Heavens, what accelerated the decaying process and provoked a circle of crappiness’.

Crowley chuckled at the words chosen for the celestial narrative.

Bobby sighed, ‘Finally’.

‘What?’

‘You’re getting back to yourself. Pet names and humor’.

Crowley realized that yes, he was feeling more like himself, and the realization just made it easier, ‘Well, it’s not like I was the grumpy half of the couple’.

Bobby parted enough for them to be face to face.

He was grinning.

That had been a rare and beautiful sight for Crowley.

They stayed looking at each other, enchanted, the conversation forgotten for the moment.

They had obviously missed their time together.

They would obviously enjoy having a new opportunity.

Maybe they could get over whatever it would be required of them.

Crowley was quickly giving up resisting.

‘What do you think of having a seat?’, Bobby asked, obviously sensing they had reached some new level of understanding, ‘We can get comfortable while I give you the details’.

‘I think you just want me to lose the pillow, Singer’.

They exchanged knowing smiles.

If Crowley was able to tease, things were getting back on track.

‘It’s kind of ridiculous coming from you, to be honest, but you can keep it’, Bobby made a gesture to the other side of the room, ‘Come on. Let me show off my magic skills’.

A fluffy and luxurious looking sofa appeared in front of the fireplace, and Bobby walked there, sat and motioned for Crowley to occupy the seat beside him.

He did so, keeping the pillow on his lap for good measure.

‘Do you want me put some clothes on?’, the hunter asked, more seriously.

‘No need to’, Crowley took his time looking at the nude body sharing the sofa with him, ‘I think I can cope’.

Bobby chuckled, ‘I’ve missed this’.

Crowley scoffed, ‘You’re not helping me believe it’s really you, Robert’.

‘Sorry to get on your nerves, Princess’.

‘And now I’m a believer’.

The hunter laughed.

Crowley could have melted right there.

Making Robert genuinely laugh was one of the things that made him feel special.

He had the softest of the spots for that man.

‘Just go back to the tale, Robert’, he decided to contain his emotion for the moment, ‘Even if I’m enjoying your efforts to seduce me, I want to understand what is happening’.

Bobby rolled his eyes good naturedly and obliged, ‘A team was formed – me, Ash, Charlie, Ellen, Jo and other hunters and generally sharp minded people – and we designed any crazy scheme you can think of to bring back some angels. From time-travel to negotiations with The Empty, we worked like dogs’. 

‘And you got things back on track?’

‘Most of it’.

‘Let me guess’, Crowley squinted, ‘As a reward for your help, you gained the right to have any one at your mercy, and you, being the rebellious pretty human you are, went for broke as soon as you knew I had died: you asked to play with my brand new soul for a while’, at Bobby’s mouth open in shock, he shook his head, ‘I knew it. Well, it could be worse, and-’

‘You know nothing, idjit!’

For the first time Bobby seemed genuinely annoyed, and Crowley recoiled slightly, grabbing the pillow.

‘This is not Hell, stupid. People are not brought here to be played with!’, the human snarled, ‘I didn’t even know what you’ve been doing until the angels brought the news’.

‘You’re not making any sense, Robert’, Crowley blinked, confused, ‘You didn’t know what I’ve been doing but you planned me a nice arrival, you are my ticket but you couldn’t bring me just through wishing, I’m in your Heaven but you don’t control me’, he huffed, ‘What am I really doing here?!’

‘Can’t you see?’

‘Obviously, not’.

‘You are part of my Heaven’, Bobby stared intensely into Crowley’s eyes, ‘And I hope I am part of yours, too’.


	3. Getting closer

Crowley spoke carefully, ‘You’re saying I…’

‘Yes, Fergus. As much as you think you don’t deserve it…’, Bobby noticed the other flinching, but went on, ‘… you are here for your own merits. You belong. What I’m trying to do is to convince you to stay’.

Now the ex-demon just looked ahead, confusion taking him completely.

‘What does not make sense, in this?’, Bobby asked.

‘So many things I don’t even know where to start’, Crowley shook his head slowly, as if trying to put some order in his thoughts, ‘If I… well, deserve to be in Heaven, it means I did enough to be… forgiven’.

‘It seems so’.

‘I can… kind of understand it. If the angels need souls that can produce happiness, I guess after all I went through, having my humanity back and doing nice gestures – that I didn’t regret even if they ended up causing my demise – made me a potential source of joy’.

Bobby nodded in agreement.

‘However…’, Crowley joined his hands on the pillow on his lap, ‘Why can I choose if I want to stay? And why do I have a host? Is that part of a recovering plan made for the worst cases? The most difficult brats get a wise guide to ease them in before they get their piece of paradise?’

‘No, there’s no such a thing as a recovering plan. If you’re here, you have all that is needed’, Bobby hesitated, looking for the words, ‘This is some… well, unique situation’.

‘It’s not about me’, Crowley had a sudden realization, ‘It’s about you and me’.

‘Yeah’.

Crowley raised both brows and separated his hands to have the palms up, in the typical gesture of showing he was not following, ‘What I find unique is that you’re spending your time with me as if you didn’t have anything else more important to do’.

He spoke and pouted, realizing the commentary was too derogatory about himself, even for his standards.

Bobby squinted, ‘Do you think I should be with someone else, Fergus?’

The question took him off-guard, and Crowley started babbling, ‘Shouldn’t I? You had a wife who died in unfortunate circumstances. She comes to mind when I think of someone with whom you would be happy spending eternity’, Crowley gulped and looked away in discomfort at Bobby’s unwavering gaze, ‘I’m sure you and her would be Employees of Every Month in the celestial happiness-making industry’.

There was silence for some moments.

When Crowley gathered the courage to look at Bobby, he met that same intense look.

‘When I first arrived here, it got some time to get used to this new existence’, Bobby spoke firmly, ‘I re-read my favorite magazines and novels. I visited long-forgotten places. I revisited moments with the boys and Rufus. I relived my most successful hunts’, his voice softened, ‘And I, obviously, spent a lot of time with Karen’.

Crowley nodded.

‘However, I knew those were not the real people. They were what my memory of them told the angel-machine that they would do and say to make me happy’, Bobby sighed, ‘And, as you said, rebellious me couldn’t be all right with that. Even when something kind of new happened, it felt wrong’.

Crowley leaned towards the other man, following the tale eagerly.

‘The angels must have felt it, and they came to…’, Bobby scoffed, ‘Investigate, if you know what I mean’. 

Crowley knew.

Demons could invade bodies and find out what the meatsuits knew and felt; they didn’t need torture methods to use in humans when they required information, once a quick possession solved anything. Angels, on the contrary, needed authorization to take over, what forced them to develop some very efficient brain-hacking tools. 

‘They took a while ransacking my head – well, my soul – and ended up saying I should visit Karen in her Heaven’, Bobby sighed, ‘I went. It was nice to see her. We chatted, we worked some chores around our old house together… but it was awkward’.

‘The angels knew it would be, didn’t they?’

‘Of course those dicks knew’, Bobby made a face, ‘It was like visiting an old friend with whom you shared a roof: you still like each other, but you remember the old grudges and after so much time you have built separate lives. You have turned into different people. Living together again felt fake, to say the least’.

‘So, the angels wanted you to see by yourself that you already had the best of the worlds’, Crowley pondered.

‘Yeah’, Bobby shook his head, ‘And then came the hard times. I needed to find a way to be happy. Not just for Heaven’s sake, but because the existence here can turn into a nightmare if you don’t find motivation’. 

There was silence.

Bobby seemed expectant.

Crowley suddenly realized what the man had said, ‘You’re trying to say I am your motivation?’

‘Well…’, Bobby tried to contain a smile, ‘I asked the angels if there was any part of my memories they had blocked, and that I needed free access to all if they wanted me to think things over’, the smile appeared, ‘They agreed, I remembered our times together and then I got… creative’.

‘You pervert!’, Crowley grinned and his eyes shone, ‘You fantasized about the King of Hell in Heaven?!’

‘That’s kind of the point’, Bobby leaned forward, ‘I fantasized about you’, his gaze turned heated, ‘As a witty demon. As the business-oriented King of the Crossroads. As the powerful King of Hell. As the Scottish tailor who feared what the neighbors would say if they knew what he was really doing with the beardy hunter…’

Crowley was in awe, ‘That’s some powerful fanfiction’.

‘Don’t judge. It’s my Heaven. I could have you any way I fancied’.

‘Far from me judging’, Crowley smiled, ‘I’m glad you let your imagination run free’.

‘I had the best source of inspiration’.

Oh, that smile, ‘You’re making it difficult not to fall for you, love’.

‘That’s good. It means I’m not reading the signs wrong’, Bobby reached out with a palm up, between them.

Crowley looked at the hand, studying it.

Bobby just waited, blue eyes set on greenish ones.

‘Is this you trying to seal a deal with me?’

‘If I were to seal a deal with you, I’d prefer the way we did it the first time’.

‘I wonder if it would work, here’.

‘Wanna find out?’

‘Whoa, tiger’, Crowley leaned back a bit, keeping a distance from the offered hand, ‘Just let’s see if I got everything right to this point, shall we?’

‘As you wish’, Bobby recoiled the hand and sat against the back of the sofa, getting comfortable, ‘Hit me’.

‘Your mission as my host is to help me feel at home…’

‘Yes’.

‘…so I can stay peacefully in Heaven forever’.

‘Something like that’.

Bobby said that and didn’t add anything else.

Crowley got annoyed, ‘Well, care to elaborate further?’

‘The angels are all for classified information, so I can’t strictly tell you everything, yet’, the human tilted his head, ‘But I’m not forbidden to answer yes or no to whatever you ask, so…’, he shrugged, ‘I’m trusting your interrogation skills on that one’.

Crowley scoffed, ‘Oh, darling, I think Heaven is not a place where I can use those skills’.

‘I meant making the right questions, idjit’, Bobby smirked, ‘Not that I mind if we give a nasty show to some angel who decides to check on us’.

At that Crowley grinned again, ‘Now we’re talking!’

And, as if that us-against-them attitude broke the last wall inside him, he was the one resting a hand on the sofa, palm up, between them.

Bobby didn’t miss the gesture, as expected, and leaned back to his previous position, settling his palm against the ex-demon’s.

The contact felt warm, nice and familiar.

‘Honestly, Robert’, Crowley spoke almost hesitantly, ‘This is nice – erase that, it has been thrilling to be with you again – but do you think I should wish to stay here? In bloody Heaven? Being me who I am?’

‘It’s not fair you ask that of me’.

‘Why is that?’

‘Because I’ve missed you so much I didn’t know what to do with myself. Why do you think I fantasized all kinds of scenarios for us? Every time I visited our best memories together I would have this bitter-sweet feeling…’, he caressed the palm under his hand with his fingertips, ‘I wanted the real deal here with me, and I got it because even the angels could see how much I need the real you, and not some projected image…’

Bobby stopped speaking and made a face as if he had just revealed too much.

Crowley looked at the joined hands and spoke as if the realization was finally dawning, ‘So, that’s why you said you were my ticket…’

It was the human turn to be nervous, and he gulped down, nodding.

‘Dear, Robert’, Crowley pressed his eyes close with his free hand, dealing with the emotion from sudden understanding, ‘Until now I thought you just wanted to get me into your bed, and now this’.

‘Sure I want to get you in my bed. I wouldn’t have wished it so big if I didn’t have plans for us’, Crowley chuckled and Bobby scooted closer and entwined their fingers, ‘We never talked things over. It was not our style’, he shrugged, ‘But I think we had something more than just sex, and I intend on having that, too, here’.

Crowley lowered his hand and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

This time he had to free both of his hands to dry some inconvenient tears, ‘Oh, bollocks’.

‘Yeah, good emotions get the best of us, here’, Bobby’s hand rested on the small of Crowley’s back, ‘It helps if you talk about it’.

The dark-haired man nodded, ‘I was having a hard time thinking about you wanting to fuck me in Heaven, and now you speak as if… I don’t even know what was that’.

‘I speak as if we had something genuine going on, down there?’, Bobby frowned at the other’s raised brow, then understood, ‘I mean on Earth’, he rolled his eyes, ‘And I’m the pervert’.

‘You can’t condemn me for having a hard time – no pun intended – understanding what’s going on. Last thing I knew I was dying in front of Lucifer in an alternate universe, and then I wake up in Heaven – Bobby Singer’s Heaven – and he is saying he missed me so much the angels brought me here. It’s quite unexpected’.

‘Have you considered…’, Bobby scooted even closer, his knee touching Crowley’s, now, ‘…that the whole point is that you still think you don’t deserve any of this?’

Their eyes met and their closeness startled Crowley, who hadn’t realized until then that Bobby had been moving to be all around him.

‘For all that is damned, Robert!’, he dried his cheeks with the back of his hand and sighed, ‘I don’t think I’m ready for this chit chat’.

‘You’re right’, Bobby nodded, ‘It’s too much’.

‘You bet’.

‘We must go slower’.

‘That would be appreciated’.

‘I’ll just stay here and look at you, ok?’

‘You’ve been looking since I arrived’, Crowley somewhat recovered from the emotional moment, ‘You’ve been staring, in fact. Quite rude, if I can say it’.

‘You never gave me a chance to do it, before’, Bobby nudged the other man’s shoulder playfully, ‘Besides, what’s some innocent staring to one who used to flirt and throw creepy innuendo around all the time?’

Crowley smirked, ‘Jealous?’

‘It kind of disconcerted me. I kept thinking to myself what kind of creature was you, cocky and sassy and getting kicks from sexualizing people in public, and then in private just downright tender’.

‘How do you dare?!’

‘The lady doth protest too much’.

‘I was never tender!’

‘Now you sounded like a Monty Python character’, Bobby laughed, ‘It’s just a flesh wound’, he scrunched his noise, ‘Tis but a scratch’, he rubbed his nose against Crowley’s, still mimicking him, ‘I was never tender!’.

Crowley grinned, touched by the playful gestures, ‘I can’t believe you’re finding it funny’.

‘I want you in my Heaven’, Bobby smiled sweetly, ‘It means I find you all kinds of fun’.

‘So it seems’, Crowley sighed again, letting go of some tension.

That approach was nice: holding hands, a soft hand on his back, a knee rubbing on his, blue eyes hovering.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Adjusting’, he took a good look around, ‘This is not exactly my territory. I don’t even know what I can or can’t do. I foresee a bumpy ride’.

‘We’re going to find out together’, Bobby caressed his back, ‘But you’re right. It may be hard, sometimes’.

Crowley scoffed, letting go the opportunity to comment on Bobby’s cheeky grin at using the word hard, ‘Of course I am right’.

‘Maybe I should change my strategy to make you feel at home quicker’, Bobby frowned in thought, ‘I still have Plans B and C. I should go for them’.

‘You mean Plan B was not for Bobby’s Bearhug? Because it worked’, the former demon chuckled, ‘Now you got me wondering what was plan A…’

‘It was for AM – the Latin root for lover and friend’.

‘What?’

‘They’re related words, you know? Originally, there was no different names for the kind of love you had for a lover and a friend – both were meant to be forever, based and trust and closeness and co-dependency’, their eyes locked, ‘I wanted you to wake up in the bed, with me holding you, so you would feel what you meant to me’.

Crowley’s jaw fell and didn’t show signs it would be back in place any soon.

‘What? You thought I just wanted to paw you?’, Bobby smirked, ‘This is Heaven. I have the purest of intensions’.

Those giddy words helped Crowley to somewhat recover, and he was back to babbling, ‘I don’t mind your paws on me, darling. You can keep that. Feels nice to be petted, and I surely could use the attention. However, my home, per se, was Hell, so-’, Crowley interrupted himself and raised a brow in doubt, ‘I keep mentioning Hell. Isn’t it forbidden to mention Hell, here?’

‘You may mention anything you want, as long as it doesn’t make you suffer. The angel machine works on feelings’.

‘I see’. 

‘You seem suddenly insecure’.

‘Not at all’, he did a fake nonchalant shrug and resumed the ranting, ‘My modus operandi may have an influence on me, still, and I can’t state much things a priori, but-’

‘Fergus?’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re going all Latin on me. I don’t personally mind it, but it sounds like you’ve decided to put on a businessman façade’.

‘When you use Latin it’s romantic, but when I use it’s not good?’

‘Fergus…’

‘I was a businessman. One of the best’.

‘Sure. But what do you think we’re negotiating, here?’

A light shaking took the room.

‘Hey’, Bobby caressed the hand in his, ‘Be careful with the self-defense mechanisms’.

The shaking subsided and Crowley glared at the walls, ‘Bollocks. It’s like having someone opening your brain and broadcasting every embarrassing thought that is there’.

‘It’s more like having a celestial machine that can see through what you are now – a soul – and channeling it to your surroundings, so you can be aware of what is going on’.

Crowley looked around wary, as if expecting to see a physical bond between him and the room.

‘What do you say…’, Bobby lowered his voice, ‘We start it all over again?’

Crowley’s eyes were large when he looked at Bobby, ‘You’re not erasing my memories, Robert!’

‘No! I can’t even do this’.

‘Are you the boss, here, or not?’

‘Really, we have a lot to talk’, Bobby sighed, ‘May I do some arrangements?’

Crowley hesitated, but he was not really inclined to say no to Robert.

He nodded, ‘You may proceed’.

‘Thank you’, Bobby smiled, ‘That’s Plan C – for Bobby’s Cut’.

In the blink of an eye, the former demon was wearing one of his black suits with a red tie.

Bobby was back to his typical jeans-plaid-and-cap attire from Earth.

The hunter looked smug, ‘Better?’

‘Yes’, Crowley answered in awe, putting the pillow away gingerly, ‘Quite better’.

‘Good’, Bobby grinned, ‘I should have known you needed that to feel comfortable’.

‘You know me too well, love’, the man in black smiled, ‘What, now? Some scotch?’

‘Let’s not fall into old routines that easily’.

‘Why? They were nice’.

‘And they didn’t take us very far’.

Crowley squinted, ‘What do you have in mind, Singer?’

Bobby took Crowley’s hands in his, ‘Would you take a stroll with me? Visit a place somewhere, have some food, share a drink?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I can take you anywhere, based on my memories. I’ve already chosen a place where I’d like to be with you. You’re in?’

Crowley blinked, ‘You’re asking me on a date?’

‘Uhm. There’s a word for it!’, Bobby chuckled when Crowley rolled his eyes, ‘Yes, idjit. I’m asking you on a date. Care to say yes or I’ll have to throw you over my shoulder and force you to have a good time?’

Crowley grinned, ‘I’d love the show of forcefulness, but it doesn’t have to be now’, he lifted their joined hands to kiss Bobby’s, ‘Take me with you, love’.


	4. Eden

‘Wow. Where are we?’

‘Japan. Have you ever been?’

‘Yes, but could never stay for long. And don’t remember it being so nice’.

‘Well, it’s my Japan. You’re welcome’.

 

xxx

 

‘Why are we alone? Is this any kind of post-apocalyptical world?’

‘I planned a nice stroll in the park before we got to the restaurant, and I supposed you’d prefer us to be by ourselves. If you keep getting the wrong ideas I can provide some old people exercising or a bunch of child-’

‘No need to. It’s perfect as it is’.

‘Thought so’.

xxx

 

‘Did you come here many times?’

‘I visited twice’.

‘Hunting something?’

‘No. Doing research. Both times in Spring. That’s why my Japan is always flowery like this. I’d read under the trees every day. Good times’.

‘You must have looked like a charming scholar – grumpy face buried in an old book’.

‘I doubt I had a grumpy face, then. Place was so beautiful it made me keep in mind why it was worth saving people and fighting monsters’.

‘I should be offended’.

‘Are you?’

‘Not really’.

‘Sorry to inform you, but I think you may have stopped qualifying as monster’.

xxx

‘I just realized something, Robert’.

‘It must be serious, if it requires an announcement’.

‘You chose for our first date the Country of Cherry Trees’. 

‘And?’

‘I know cherry blossoms are supposed to represent the passing of time, the fragility of beauty and the eternal cycle of life’.

‘Yeah, they mean all that’.

‘Is there a hidden message for me, in this? Maybe that I should accept change and new starts?’

‘You can read it like it suits you better. I just wanted to bring you to one of my favorite places in the world’.

‘It’s your favorite place because of its Philosophy? Or we’re here for the pretty flowers?’

‘Someone who has been wearing the same vessel for so many years that it becomes a part of his self should know better than believe there’s a strict separation between form and content’.

‘You say the wisest things, Robert’.

‘Don’t ruin the moment’.

‘Your wish is my command, sexy grumpy scholar’.

‘Shut up, idjit’.

 

xxx

 

‘In fact, I did have a hidden agenda when I chose Japan’.

‘Ah! And what was it?’

‘I guess being a demon for so long may have taken you too far from simple beauty like-’

‘-flowery flowers and gardens made of stones and bushes and healthy ancient citizens? Yes, it did’.

‘So, I wanted a place where I could surround you with this kind of beauty’. 

‘A bouquet of roses was not enough to you?’

‘No way I’m giving you dead things!’

‘Oh, dear. Does it mean I’ll have to deal with delicate flowers, clean water resources and the epiphany that nothing really ever disappear, just turn into something else that in some way carries the good things they created? Should I, then, extract joy from the knowledge that every little thing makes a positive difference in the world?’

‘Are you mocking me?’

‘No. Really’.

‘Then I was the one ruining the moment, this time?’

‘It seems so’.

‘Balls’.

 

xxx

 

‘You should lose the coat’.

‘I’m not hot’.

‘Yes, you are’.

‘Charming, even if not exactly subtle, Robert. What’s your point?’

‘I just want you to integrate better with the surroundings. Feel the breeze, let the scents of nature touch your skin’.

‘Says the one who lived amongst old books, some of them made of human skin and blood’.

‘Same goes to you’.

‘Worst excuse to get me off my clothes ever, hunter’. 

‘Not everything has to have a hidden agenda, demon’.

‘Well, you’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I’ll take the coat off as long as you lose the vest. And the cap’.

‘We have a deal if your tie is loosened, too. I’ll even roll up my sleeves as a bonus, as I know you like my forearms’.

‘Damn it, Robert’.

‘What?’

‘Can we seal the deal Crossroads-style?’

‘No’.

‘Aw’.

‘We can seal it like a couple’, Bobby approached and pecked Crowley’s lips quickly, then turned away, ‘There’s the restaurant. Let’s go’.

‘You’re a tease, Robert’.

 

xxx

 

Bobby showed off his knowledge of Japanese talking to the waiter and then explaining the dishes to Crowley, while reinforcing that now that they were souls they could eat anything without ill-effects.

They had been settled in a table with a wonderful view of the park, now filled with people going on with their business.

Crowley found it a nice touch that Robert had made those people appear. It would be creepy to sit there and eat watching an empty park.

The ex-demon was starting to accept that being with that man had potential to feel good all the time.

He had been head-over-hills for the hunter when he was alive, grumpy and understandably suspicious towards the demon; now, seeing a relaxed and at ease Robert Singer, in the format of a pure soul, using his gentleness, culture and knowledge in a safe environment, made Crowley even more attracted to the man.

Besides that, there were the sensations: every visual detail and scent and sound was focused and clear and not hurting at all. They fulfilled him with a kind of warmth he knew was not exactly physical, once he was a soul, too, now, and the meatsuit – well, the body – he seemed to be wearing was just an illusion. 

They ate – and Crowley had to confess it was nice to eat without fear of getting poisoned or hurt while tasting salty things again – and exchanged stories on experiences they had in Japan: the hunter spoke of his brief but delightful visits, while Crowley told of the collected contracts and negotiations for demonic business.

They had very different experiences in the country, and it didn’t escape them that those experiences were contradictory to their public personae: Robert Singer, burly hunter, who had gone to Japan to work but to enjoy the culture and have his hopes in humanity renewed; Crowley, the suave crossroads demon, who had gone to Japan to work and never even thought of enjoying the non-business aspects of the trip, being it evil practices or not. 

They spoke of missed opportunities and used tea cups to make a toast to Heaven and its infinite possibilities, stating that it compensated a bit for all the dickery angels were known for.

(They laughed at those words like the naughty boys they were.)

 

xxx

 

After the tea, Bobby asked if Crowley was ok with going to visit another place quite close, received an eager yes and zapped them to the middle of the Wisteria Flower Tunnel. 

Crowley looked around, not even attempting to hide his awe at the colorful place.

‘Nice, isn’t it?’, the hunter approached to take his hand.

‘Wow, Singer’, he looked at the joined hands, then to the face in front of him, ‘Being romantic?’

‘Don’t be silly. I’m just making sure your demonic past doesn’t make you run scared from beauty’.

‘If that was the case I would have run scared from you, love’.

Bobby squinted, then smiled.

Crowley thought he would melt.

They started walking side by side, holding hands.

‘So, in your Heaven you can go to whatever place you wish, but just for the good memories you have of them?’, Crowley asked not much later, still as chatty as ever.

‘Yes’, Bobby chuckled, ‘And you have no idea how messed up it was in the beginning’.

‘How so?’

‘I was so excited for the places I was visiting that they reminded me of other places and suddenly I was in those other places before I could stop it. I had to learn how to deal with it, or I would be tossed from a memory to other like a rag doll’.

‘I can just imagine your face’.

‘If the angels didn’t cover their ears they learned a lot of interesting new words’.

Both chuckled, and kept walking lazily through the tunnel. 

Bobby sobered, ‘It reminded too much of how I had to go through those damn memories when I died, you know?’

‘No, in fact I didn’t have the experience’, Crowley shrugged, ‘Neither of my deaths was exactly usual: in the first I was drunk, stupid and was collected by hellhounds. They don’t give you a clear head or time for a nice movie of your life’.

‘And in the second you just woke next to me’.

‘Yes, and I had expected never waking up’, he smiled tentatively, ‘Well, you saw my reaction with your own eyes’.

Bobby nodded and they stayed in silence for some moments, hands held a bit more tightly at the memory of what they had already gone through in order to be together, strolling in peace.

Suddenly, Crowley let go of Bobby’s hand and went closer to a bunch of deep red flowers.

‘There were some like these in a mansion in Italy’, he ran his fingertips delicately on the petals, ‘It was in a private beach in the South. The most spectacular sunset I’ve ever seen’, his eyes saddened, ‘A pity I couldn’t stay more than a couple of days. It’s the kind of place that makes you wish you were alive’.

Bobby went to stand by his side, ‘Why didn’t you stay longer, if it was so nice?’

‘I was one of Lilith’s minions, at the time’, he sighed, ‘She was on vacation, torturing the family who lived there just for the kicks’, his fingers caressed a flower until they reached the stem, ‘She soon realized I was spending more time enjoying the beauty of the place than taking part in the torture, and let’s say she had a lot of fun… teasing me about that’.

The tunnel trembled around them like a malfunctioning hologram.

‘A real demon should not feel those things’, Crowley resumed speaking, not noticing the changing, ‘I tried to keep my distance from beauty, Robert, because I knew it would stain me’.

The ex-demon let go of the plant and lowered his hand.

Bobby tilted his head, surprised at the revelation.

Crowley smiled bitterly, ‘Isn’t it ironic? I should be the one staining it. I was a demon. Lilith and the others were engaging in all kinds of perversities and, still…’, his eyes wandered, ‘It seems I was always easily corruptible in the worst way to my self-preservation: as a human, I destroyed my own life through evil actions; as a demon, I craved nice things and human’s affection’, he shook his head and scoffed, ‘I’m probably the only creature to have managed to fail in both realms’.

‘You didn’t fail, stupid!’, Bobby said fondly, standing in front of the other, in order to capture his attention, ‘You just said you had a penchant for beauty since you should have been just a common minion’, his eyes softened, ‘It’s a good thing you kept it in you, even after losing your soul in the racks’.

‘Seriously, Robert?’, Crowley frowned painfully, ‘How can you, of all people, don’t agree that I failed?’

‘Why me of all people?’

‘I had your soul. I saw your memories. I know what you did to your father’.

Bobby faltered, ‘Then you know the movie of my life was not nice’, he flinched slightly, ‘You know I had to relive my worst memory to wake up and talk to the boys’.

‘Yes, I know’.

‘And how did it relate to you?’, Bobby frowned, ‘Don’t tell me you think you failed because you didn’t manage to kill your mother or anything like that’.

‘No, it’s not that’, Crowley smiled lightly, ‘I hate that witch, but I’d do almost anything to have her love, too. I have accepted that for a while’.

The confession seemed to arise the tenderness in Bobby, and he grinned, ‘You say the cutest things, Princess’.

‘Stop it’, Crowley said, grinning too.

He couldn’t really be annoyed with that man.

‘Just if you tell me what your point is’, Bobby rested his hands on Crowley’s waist, in a surprisingly intimate gesture, ‘Why does what I did to my old man makes you think you are a failure?’

Crowley put his hands on Bobby’s chest and spoke softly, ‘You were abused as a child; you had to kill your own father; you had to deal with your mother’s ingratitude. It cut you so deeply you didn’t manage to explain to your wife why you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of having children’.

To Bobby’s surprise, Crowley’s eyes were filled with pain, as if those things had happened to him.

To his utter shock, the tunnel turned back to its previous state of perfection.

‘And still, with that crappy family story, the regrets and the functional alcoholism, you were to the Winchesters the supportive father they never really had in John. I had my differences with Moose and Squirrel, but they are heroes, and this is in good part to your presence and guidance’.

Bobby had his eyes welled up in tears.

‘I was abused, too. I was disapproved, menaced, treated as garbage, left behind. And when I had a son, I did mostly the same to him’, Crowley gulped down, ‘Can’t you see it, Robert? I was a father by blood, but I took in the role model of my mother and neglected my own child; you, on the contrary, didn’t have to have children to be the best father someone could have’.

For the first time since they had met again, Bobby was shaken.

Crowley passed his hands through his hair in exasperation, ‘Like I said, I taint beauty’, he gave a step behind, ‘This is your Heaven, and here I am making you realize how… broken I really am and how I don’t…’, he choked out the word, ‘… deserve to be here’.

They kept looking at each other.

One tear ran down Bobby’s cheek, and he spoke in a whisper, ‘My father always said I broke everything I touched’.

Crowley realized he had used a word that pained Bobby and immediately walked back to the other man, ‘I’m sorry, love. Shouldn’t have said that’, he rested his hands on the bearded cheeks, , his eyes searching Bobby’s frantically, ‘You know that what your father said is not true, don’t you?’

Bobby smiled and took the hands from his face to kiss the palms, ‘Now I know. But until I had to confront him to wake up from the coma, I had never really believed that I could have my hand on something and it end well’.

‘How could those two morons not be strong evidence on the contrary, pet?’

Bobby chuckled, drying his cheeks, ‘Humans can be stupid’.

Crowley smiled, ‘So can demons’.

‘You know, while I was alone in my Heaven, with time in my hands to think things over and my memories all back, I started wondering if you were going to be the last piece in the puzzle – the final evidence that I really had managed to make someone happy’.

Crowley tilted his head, touched.

‘I don’t care how many times you’ve heard you don’t deserve to be loved, Fergus, because you do’, Bobby looked straight into the other man’s eyes, ‘My worst memories mean nothing now that I have you here. And not because I can finally know if we have something special going on, but because I can finally see you freeing yourself from the things that were tying you down, and it means everything to me’, Bobby got closer, ‘No matter if you decide you want to spend eternity with me or not. What matters is you can be happy, now’.

Crowley blinked in surprise.

‘You have no idea how beautiful you are’, the ex-hunter went on, ‘I always knew it would be like this, and still, I can’t even begin to say what I feel when I watch you-’

Bobby seemed lost for a moment, his eyes locked in Crowley’s, not knowing how to go on.

Then, all of a sudden, he pulled Fergus against him forcefully, ‘Dear God, man! Nothing around us is real, and you were approaching a flower as if you could hurt it! And you touched me to try to sooth my feelings because you care for me even more than you care for yourself!’, his hand cradled the shorter man’s head to bring their foreheads together, ‘Can’t you see how your heart is in the right place? Can’t you see you always had that in you, even before the trials and the blood addiction?’

Bobby leaned for their noses to rub delicately, and then to touch the other man’s lips with his.

‘The angels showed me things you had done. They were not sure I’d still want you here’, Bobby spoke between light kisses, ‘Little they knew each thing I saw made me wish I could rescue you from that stupidity…’, he kept the kisses, ‘You were so blind to your own needs I wanted you here even more…’

Crowley teased Bobby’s lower lip with his teeth, ‘It must have been a surprise to the winged dicks when the knight in shining armor chose to be with the dragon’.

‘You are my Princess’, Bobby groaned in the mouth touching his, ‘If I have to slay you to show your inner beauty, so be it’. 

That made Crowley laugh, and Robert took advantage of the moment to use tongue.

It was passionate, but above all, it was an amorous kiss.

The kind of kiss they shared right after some deep understanding or clever joke, when they were on Earth.

The kind of kiss that happened because they enjoyed being together and admired each other more than any other creature in the world.

The kind of kiss that always led to very satisfying sex.

When they parted, both were smiling.

And, to their surprise, they were back to the room where Crowley had first appeared, right beside the huge bed.

‘Oh, balls’, Bobby said, embarrassed, ‘I must have sent the wrong message to the angel machine. We can go back if-’

‘No need to’, Crowley smiled, pecking his lips, ‘We can visit Japan anytime, can’t we?’

‘Yes’.

‘Than let’s keep this going, by now’.


	5. From now on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut is coming.

They kissed again, mouths open and physical reactions led by pent-up desire.

‘You know’, Bobby spoke between a kiss and other, while Crowley joyfully messed with his hair, ‘If you decide to stay with me, what I really hope you do, you can take me to places, too’.

Crowley parted a bit to face him, ‘You would like it?’

‘Sure!’, Bobby found those bright eyes and swollen lips in front of him very engaging, ‘You’re ancient. I’m in for any trip with you’.

‘Even if my memories of the places may not be the happiest?’, Crowley hesitated, ‘You must guess my lives were not exactly paradise material’.

‘That’s one good thing about New Heaven’, Bobby raised a proud brow, ‘Now that things are running smooth, the souls with more, let’s say, emotional intelligence can pick any bad settings and create new memories out of them’, he grinned, ‘We can live as many whole new lives as we want, here, including new versions of our real ones’.

‘Great work you’ve doing here’, Crowley praised sincerely, enjoying the enthusiasm in Bobby’s eyes, ‘I could take you to the Scotland I knew as a human and have a good time even there…’

Bobby leaned to speak in Crowley’s ear, ‘We could have sex on a meadow while you wore just a kilt, if we wished so’, he nipped at the lobe, ‘You could even use your human original body, if we get curious enough to see how it would work’, he licked the lobe, ‘As I said, I’m in for any crazy trip you suggest, as long as it is the two of us having fun’.

Crowley’s eyes rolled in pleasure, ‘Where did that come from, Singer…?’

‘I had a lot of time to fantasize before you came along’, he smiled naughtily, hands caressing the other man’s sides in the delicate way he knew provoked shivers, ‘Are you game?’

‘For sex in a meadow?’, Crowley reached for Bobby’s sides under the shirt, ‘I couldn’t be more in’.

‘I mean sex anywhere’, Bobby nuzzled the shorter man’s hair with his nose, ‘Every place we fancy’, he attacked the neck, now, ‘As many times as we want’, his lips sucked the side of the neck, ‘For as long as we wish’.

‘You mean…’, Crowley said, tilting his head to the side to give Bobby more access, ‘We can control how much we last, too?’

‘This is Heaven’, his breathing sent shivers through Crowley’s body, ‘A good mind can do whatever it pleases’, he kissed his cheek, ‘And we are both great minds’.

Their lips met and no rational thought was possible.

Bobby pulled Crowley by the tie forcefully.

It reminded both men of the many times when they lost themselves in kisses that led to expensive ties and cheap vests being thrown away with the same urgency, and they melted into each other as if their souls were joining.

(Well, once both were nothing but souls, now, it was exactly what was happening.)

The kiss went from open mouths with lots of tongue to caressing lips and, when they parted, they just had eyes for each other.

Crowley could barely believe the happy grin on Bobby’s face.

And he certainly could barely believe the tenderness in those blue eyes.

Maybe I really deserve it.

Suddenly, the lighting changed and they looked around.

They were in Singer’s bedroom in the old house in Sioux Falls.

(Of course, the huge bed stayed.)

Confused by the new surroundings, the ex-demon grabbed Bobby’s shirt in surprise.

‘Sorry to change things so quickly’, the ex-hunter got concerned, ‘I’m more out of control than I realized. We can go slower, if you wish’.

‘Oh, no, darling’, he renewed the hold on the shirt, this time not to feel safer, but to get the other man closer, ‘I’ve had enough of waiting’, he rubbed against Bobby, ‘Don’t want you thinking I didn’t miss you, too’.

‘I know you did’, Bobby took Crowley’s face in his hands, ‘But promise you’ll tell me if something bothers you. We’re here to make the other happy, and it will just be harder if you don’t open yourself to me’.

‘You want me conversational enough to make promises but keep speaking of things that are hard and that I should open myself to you?’ 

‘Fergus…’

‘Love it when you growl’.

‘Fergus…’  
‘Makes me all tingly’.

‘Fergus…’

‘Oh, all right’, he rolled his eyes, ‘I promise’, he pecked Bobby’s lips, ‘I’ll make my best to be as through as possible with you’.

‘It sounded sexual’.

‘Not really able to get my mind off of it now, love’.

Their mouths met again and, between kisses, Bobby managed to speak, ‘Finally…’

‘What?’

‘You’re opening up’, Bobby tumbled Crowley on the bed and crawled over him until they were face to face, ‘Thank you’.

They resumed kissing, and there were explosions and goosebumps and fireworks.

Exactly like when they met the point of no return in their trysts and, even if conversation was great and felt intimate, they needed to be physically closer.

(And the King of Hell loved when the hunter took the lead and showed what he wanted.)

‘I know you still have a lot to ask and you deserve every explanation I can give you’, Robert’s husky voice sounded close to Crowley’s ear, ‘But I’ve been waiting for you…’

‘How could you know the angels would bring me here?’

‘I prayed’, that maddening nipping started again, ‘Even those dicks had to accept, sooner or later, that I need you’.

‘You know how to make a girl feel special, Robert’.

The room was filled with Crowley’s moaning and Bobby’s groans for a while, hands and lips and tongues pushing words aside for the moment.

‘You know’, the ex-demon chuckled, ‘If I had my powers these clothes would be already out of the way’.

Bobby squinted at him, ‘You’re implying I don’t use my powers properly?’

‘I never said that’.

‘Don’t have to. I’m not a fool’.

Crowley’s breathing halted – in a second, he was completely naked from the waist up.

‘You’re not fooling around’, he commented.

‘Not really, Your Highness’.

And now he was completely naked.

‘I surrender’, Crowley raised his hands, ‘You’re good’.

‘The best you ever had?’

‘Yeah, Singer. The best I ever had’, Crowley smiled, ‘Now just be a dearie and don’t be overdressed, will you?’

‘It’s payback for all the times you came to visit ready for the gala’.

Crowley rubbed against the middle-covered jeans, ‘I’m not ashamed of begging, Robert’.

‘I know’, he smiled, caressing the other’s cheek with his knuckles, ‘You can be a very good boy’.

Crowley was going to roll his eyes, but he let out a startled yelp when Bobby rolled them, sat down and pulled the ex-demon to his lap.

Crowley’s legs wrapped around Bobby’s waist, his hands exploring the shoulders and back of the large man under him. 

They kissed with tongues massaging and the ex-demon seizing the opportunity to decide the depth and intimacy of the contact. 

(And he wanted all the depth and all the intimacy he could have.)

Bobby’s hands were caressing everywhere he could reach, giving special attention to Crowley’s thighs and lower back, then pulling the man against him fiercely to use his arms like hooks and mold their bodies against each other.

It occurred to Crowley that Bobby was not hurrying things, permitting him to enjoy the closeness and choose the pace, and he liked that as much as he enjoyed domineering Robert.

Besides, the current position was perfect for something that Crowley used to do when he had sex on Earth - put his own penis off-limits.

It seemed Bobby was putting him in control exactly to respect his sexual restriction, waiting for him to set the pace on what he wanted to do, and it provoked a surge of affection in the ex-demon’s chest.

To test those waters and see if he had gotten the idea right, Crowley reached for the belt of Bobby’s trousers and whispered, ‘May I?’

‘Let me make it easier for you’.

The jeans disappeared.

Crowley licked his lips at the vision of the bulge in Bobby’s boxers.

They pecked lips and shared a knowing stare.

So, Crowley had read things right. Bobby was giving him space to do things his way.

There were some few but unforgettable times on Earth when their sex sessions got longer than what was usual for them, and those always started with the hunter permitting the demon to go down on him for as long as he wished.

(And the demon usually wished to be there for a long time.)

They shared a last kiss and Bobby laid on his back.

Crowley still stayed straddling Robert, his hands caressing the chest of the man under him, his eyes and fingertips exploring shapes and details.

He had missed that body so much.

He had drunk scotch and touched himself through his trousers to remember their late night encounters more than he should if he wanted to keep any sanity.

Who could ever imagine that this man, who he had longed for, would make all the efforts to bring him to his Heaven. 

Their eyes met and the connection between them, made of desire and affection, extracted such happy grins from them that, in any other circumstances, they would be ashamed.

But not now. 

Not here.

Crowley slid off Bobby’s lap, opened his legs to kneel between them and caressed reverently the bulge, before pulling the shorts down and finally having the cock in his mouth.

He loved having Robert in his mouth. It gave him the sensation that he was a slave pleasuring his master but, at the same time, a slave so trusted he was permitted to have a very sensitive part of his master between his teeth.

The demon had quickly found out the human would never attack or humiliate him when or because he was willing to serve; and the human was confident the demon would not seize the opportunity to hurt him.

It used to work beautifully on Earth, and it was working beautifully in Heaven.

Crowley enjoyed every moment of it, worshipping that cock with all the eagerness years apart had created. He tasted it, felt the scent and the consistency of it against his tongue; kissed and put the whole balls on his mouth; relished in the moans he heard and in Robert’s hands caressing his hair lovingly.

He mentally praised the angels. The simulation of physical bodies was more than perfect – it was beautifully enhanced.

(Who would say Crowley, former King of Hell, would be one day in Heaven, on his knees and directing part of his thoughts at angels, as if in praying?)

‘Please’, the caress in his hair turned into a light tug, ‘Come here’.

‘Are you sure, love?’, Crowley asked, his mouth not quite leaving the penis, ‘I could do it all day’.

‘Me too’, Bobby smiled, eyes dark with passion, ‘But there’s something else I must tell you’.

‘Uhm?’, was all Crowley managed, his mind foggy.

‘Just come here’.

He gave a last suck in the cock just to see Robert squirm, and let himself be guided by the hand that took his.

He was rolled to be on his back, legs open, so Bobby could settle between them and leave his weight on Crowley’s body.

He took his mouth for a new deep kiss.

And then he stopped to face the man under him, ‘Fergus?’

‘Uhm?’, the glazed-eyed former demon made the effort to speak after such a passional attack and with that big man pressing against him.

‘I need you to pay attention’.

‘Hard to’, the hands were roaming on the muscled back, ‘Missed my beefy hunter’.

‘Missed my sassy demon, too, but there’s something important I got to say’.

‘I thought you wanted to fuck me’, he raised his legs to circle the hunter’s waist.

‘It’s about that’.

‘Does it work any different, here?’, he moved his hips enticingly.

‘Exactly’, Bobby groaned.

‘Listening’, he put his hands on the ex-hunter’s ass to pull their middles even closer.

‘We don’t need lube, for starters’.

‘Really?’, the nails went up on the skin of Bobby’s back.

‘Uhum’, he growled.

‘Good. Anything else?’

‘It’s my Heaven, so you don’t get to finish by yourself’.

That made Crowley freeze, ‘What?’

‘You know what I mean’, Bobby’s face was serious, ‘It won’t work, here’.

The raised legs rested on the bed again, the eager hands settled on Bobby’s naked chest, and Crowley almost whined, ‘Why?’

Bobby chuckled affectionately, ‘I guess it was your zone of comfort, but now we are souls, and souls have this very deep emotional attachment’, he caressed Crowley’s hair, ‘I want to feel you coming. Damn, I want to see you coming. I need your pleasure as much as I need mine’, their eyes locked, ‘Always wanted it, but when you kept disappearing on me after I was done, I assumed it was off-limits and respected your choice’.

Crowley gulped down, ‘Don’t know if I-’

‘I’m sure you can’, Bobby interrupted him with a kiss, ‘No matter how much time it takes to overcome whatever it is, I’ll be here for you’.

‘Dear, Robert’, Crowley scolded, ‘Don’t make me emotional’.

‘I need to’, Bobby smiled at the frowny ex-demon, ‘Positive emotions are fuel. I’m betting all my chips on that to witness a shameless and Heaven-shattering orgasm of yours’.

Crowley was incredulous.

He could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks. 

‘You speak as if I were some prude who is ashamed of sex’.

‘We can pretend that is why you never came in front of me’, Bobby smirked, relaxing against the other’s body, ‘Or you could just tell me the real reason’.

Crowley groaned.

No, it was not because he was a prude. Both knew it could not be.

‘When did you realize?’, Crowley asked.

‘That you were not coming?’, at the nod, Bobby answered, ‘I found it strange when you disappeared on me after our first time. I thought you were busy or just didn’t care that much for the afterwards, being a demon and all’, he pursed his lips in thought, ‘But it kept happening, and not just you went away, but I never saw you touching yourself. I barely saw your cock, in fact’, he raised his brows, ‘I remember one time when I took off every piece of cloth but your boxers, and you kept them in place in the front while I took you from behind… It was sexy, so I supposed it was a kink and let it go’.

Crowley stayed quiet, pondering on the hunter’s point of view about his actions.

‘But I started thinking about it: if the kink was not be satisfied, or even not touching yourself, why go away so quick? You could stay and tease and play denial, if that was what you liked’, Bobby made a face, ‘I made my research, and didn’t find anything on demons who couldn’t complete the act. Not a curse, not a disease, not some karma brought from previous lives. Didn’t even find some relevant use for demon’s semen, in case you were worried about that’, he tilted his head, ‘And I guessed there were not problems with the meatsuit, once you could cure yourself from almost everything’.

‘You spent time researching that?’

‘I had time to spare and our sex life was of my great interest’, he tilted his head, ‘Besides, it could be some matter with you. What kind of partner was I if I didn’t worry about stuff you could be going through?’

Crowley lifted a hand to caress the man’s beard, ‘You’re a gentleman’.

‘You deserved my care’.

Crowley clenched his jaw, not used yet to that kind of statement, ‘All right. I’ll explain it’.

Bobby nodded and waited.

‘It’s simple, in fact’, the former demon had a new calmness on him, now that he had decided to reveal the truth, ‘I was afraid’.

‘Of me?’

‘No. Not of you. I was afraid of myself. And of the universe, in a certain measure’.

Bobby frowned in confusion.

‘When we kissed for the deal I felt something… unexpected. Something I had never felt before. I couldn’t forget it. I kept thinking of it, trying to understand if it was the surprise of you using tongue or the kind of powerful soul you had. Every time we met I felt it again, even if we didn’t touch’, Crowley breathed deeply, ‘I convinced myself I was in danger and should find out what kind of influence you could have over me. I wondered if it was witchcraft, at some point. I started visiting to keep an eye on you, but each time I wanted to be closer, and I didn’t bother anymore in uncovering any plans you could be plotting’. 

‘Damned suspicious, you’.

‘What can I say? Hunter, demon. You get it, love’.

They shared a knowing look.

‘Soon it was obvious there was no magic going on but your charming self – erase that smirk – and I kept on coming to see you because… well, it felt good and I was curious about that bond’.

‘And then we got closer and closer through conversation, we found excuses to meet halfway for a mocking kiss and neither of us wanted to let go’.

‘Exactly’, Crowley huffed, ‘And since that first playful kiss all I wanted was to be on my knees for you’. 

‘That was how our first time went on, in fact’.

‘I was kind of in a panic when you came and I realized what I was doing’, Crowley admitted, ‘Do you know what it meant to a demon who had been fighting for so long to be on the top of the food chain, suddenly find out he enjoys sucking a hunter’s cock and was satisfied just at watching his pleasure?’

‘I can sympathize’, Bobby said, ‘It must be like if a hunter suddenly found out he was very interested in some powerful and more than occasionally evil demon boss, and that he may even care deeply for the bastard’.

Crowley smirked, ‘Touché’.

Bobby caressed the other man’s jaw absentmindedly, ‘But what difference it made if you came in front of me? We were already doing some nasty stuff’.

‘Yes, and I was more lost in it every time’.

‘Lost?’

‘It felt like I was surrendering to you, Robert. I lost all rational thought when you kissed me, I craved for your hands on me. You never asked anything in return for the sex, and I often wondered if I would be able to refuse anything, if you ever asked’, he sighed, ‘I was hesitant in the very beginning, but then our liaison went on and I realized you would not take advantage of me, and I felt the luckiest being to be involved with someone who had integrity in the same level I had – keeping deals and not plotting on my back. It just made me fall more and more for you’.

‘So…’, Bobby caressed the black hair soothingly, ‘…the orgasm was like the final frontier? The last ounce of yourself you were not giving?’

‘Kind of’, Crowley now positively blushed, ‘I was already risking too much by being with you, but even if I was vulnerable and kind of out of my mind, I was conscious and aware all the time. I could stop what we were doing, if something unusual happened. I could watch the surroundings and protect both of us, if anything appeared suddenly’, his eyes shone in mischief, ‘And when you were satisfied, I could hide in some dark corner and pleasure myself thinking of what you had just done to me and the things I had made you feel. No need to finish anything in your presence’.

‘And you think that was a good thing?’, Bobby reproached softly, ‘I was there, fucking you the best I could to get both of us off, and you were holding back because you had to make sure I was not changing my mind about you and no one was going to invade the room and attack us?’, he shook his head, ‘That was not fair to you’.

‘I never expected fairness, pet’.

Bobby adjusted between Crowley’s legs again, ‘Should have put you in a demon’s trap and made you tell me this a long time ago’.

‘Maybe it was for the better that you didn’t go that far’, Crowley raised his legs to cross them behind the ex-hunter again, ‘We’ll never know if it didn’t preserve us from some severe hurt when life made us part’. 

‘Yeah. Maybe you’re right’, Bobby agreed, his hand caressing Crowley’s chest, ‘But the PTSD sex is over’, the hand went down to the stomach, ‘I was my own paranoid self about building relationships, too, and we’re here to leave those things behind’.

‘Agreed, love’, he pulled Bobby against him, not permitting yet that the teasing hand reached his cock, and pecked his lips, ‘Would you feel better or worse if I told you I may have masturbated on you once or twice after you fell asleep?’

Bobby made a face, ‘You creepy assrat!’

Crowley laughed, seeing there was no real annoyance on the other man’s reaction and relieved everything was, in fact, forgiven.

‘It’s more than time to start new routines’, Bobby spoke so close to Crowley’s neck that he shivered and moved his hips in anticipation, ‘May I come in?’

‘What are you, now? Some angel who needs a formal invitation?’

‘Yourself said I’m a gentleman’, Bobby’s hands caressed Crowley’s thighs.

‘That you are’.

‘Besides…’, the ex-hunter straightened his back, put his hands under Crowley’s legs to lift him a bit more and pressed on, ‘… angels are not the kind of dicks we like’.

The ex-demon laughed at such a thing being said in Heaven, and relaxed at the smile in the other’s face, ‘You’re a wonder, Robert’.

‘And you haven’t seen the best part of it’.

The man spoke while rubbing his cock against Crowley’s entrance – a familiar move, once the demon refused to be fingered, preferring to go ‘straight to business’ as quick as possible – and the expectation was taking both of them.

‘I can’t imagine what may be better than what you’ve showed me, but I trust you with all I have’, Crowley grinned, ‘You’re welcome, love’.

And with that, Bobby slipped in.


	6. Open doors

Crowley wailed at the penetration.

Not because it hurt. 

Far from that, in fact.

Their sex had always been easy. Bobby was initially a noob who had to be guided through some essentials, but soon proved to be a very quick student, inspired and resourceful in sex as he was as a hunter.

(And it helped that Crowley could take care of any inconveniences with his demonic powers.)

The point was that being a soul made everything more intense: it had happened with lights and colors and smells and touches; Crowley had already been almost out of control at the simple feeling of Robert’s hand on his or on any part of his body against him; he had just savored Bobby’s cock as if it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

It was not just the missing. Senses were heightened, now.

That hard and hot penis inside, followed by a hot tongue invading his mouth, were overwhelming to someone who had been in Heaven for so little time.

(If you add to that the almost non-existent experience with feel-safe and amorous sex, well, that was all too much all of a sudden.)

Crowley’s ankles crossed behind Bobby’s back.

He couldn’t help but pulling the man as close as possible.

His thoughts were of complete surrender.

Deeper.

Lock into me.

Do whatever you want.

Forever.

He didn’t know what parts of that he had spoken out loud, but he guessed something was said, because Robert started speaking to him, too.

The words were not very well articulated, and Crowley was not able to focus on vocabulary, but he detected that something was ‘perfect’, that it felt ‘wonderful’ to be inside him and that ‘yes, forever’.

They moved together, Crowley’s ass pressing around Bobby’s cock, his member rubbing against their stomachs, fingers in hair and nails on skin, a kiss on the verge of despair at the whole body pleasure.

It was a shock when Crowley realized he was very close to coming.

It shouldn’t be such a surprise, once he didn’t have reasons to worry and hold back, anymore, but it was.

He wanted to warn Bobby.

He wanted to stall it.

He couldn’t even articulate some words.

His body tensed and he shut his eyes, trying to halt the movements.

‘Don’t fight it’, Bobby’s voice was sweet, ‘Give it to me’.

Crowley wanted it but didn’t want it.

It was not easy letting go of the safe routine of keeping track of everything around and using that as an excuse to feel in control.

He didn’t even know how to focus on not being tense without being tense.

Bobby kept the pace, not giving his partner any chance to part from him or cut off the building pleasure.

The forcefulness turned the situation more in a battle of instincts than in a battle of wills: it was not about Crowley giving in to Bobby’s efforts; it was about Crowley not thinking too much about it and permitting himself to enjoy the ride with Bobby. 

And then, in one of those inspired ideas that were his trademark, the ex-hunter sucked at ex-demon’s neck as if he intended to create a hickey.

Crowley gasped in pleasure at the unexpected action.

He forgot everything else for a moment, his focus into the pain-pleasure.

It took total trust to enjoy such a gesture.

And, for all that was damned or holly or whatever, he did enjoy it.

That was enough.

Crowley moaned – whimpered, in fact –, losing control.

Bobby grabbed him in a tight embrace, anchoring his partner while the spasms from the waves of pleasure took his body.

When it was over, Crowley let his head fall and covered his face with his hands, ‘Oh, bollocks’.

‘Yeah’, Bobby placed the legs he had been holding on the bed and caressed Crowley’s balls, ‘Nice ones you have here’.

He kept his face hidden, ‘I mean I’m sorry, Robert’.

‘Why?’, Bobby leaned on, took the hands away and pecked his lips, ‘You should have seen your face’, other peck, ‘It was beautiful’.

Crowley groaned, ‘It was a lot sooner than intended’.

‘Too good, eh?’

A flustered chuckle, ‘You can say that’.

‘There’s no too soon or too late, here’, Bobby got off Crowley and laid on his side, cradling the other man’s face for a kiss, ‘Don’t worry. You’ll learn to deal with it’.

‘You don’t know th-Oh’.

In a surprising maneuver, Bobby turned Crowley on his side, too, the back to him, like when the former King of Hell had first woken there, ‘I know it because that was what happened to me’.

‘You learned how to control orgasms?’

‘This is Heaven’, Bobby answered, a hand teasing Crowley’s spine, just to see him shiver, then palming his ass, ‘You want it, you get it’, a finger slipped between the buttocks and massaged the hole, ‘Do you mind if I keep going?’

Crowley realized Robert was in the perfect position of power: he had been in this place for more time, knew the rules and how to deal with them; and, still, his way of guiding the newcomer (ha-ha) was gentle and respectful. 

Well, if that was not promising…

‘Bring it on, love’.

Bobby entered him again, and Crowley made sure to breathe slower and deeper, wishing his body to relax to focus on the sensations – any distracting doubtful thoughts would make him be overwhelmed again, and he expected to master this new situation as soon as possible.

The strategy worked: he felt himself mold against the mattress, every spot Bobby touched alive in arousal, his own penis hardening again, and him aware of all but not anxious about what he still couldn’t control.

He realized his partner was keeping a slow pace, in and out of him, and huffed, ‘You don’t have to wait on me’.

‘Patience is a virtue’, Bobby kissed his temple, ‘The first I’ll make sure you learn’.

Crowley groaned and tried to move his hips, ‘I can’t believe you’re bringing Christian values to our bed’.

Bobby grabbed him by the chin and shut up any protests stilling his hips while devouring his mouth.

When they parted, Bobby had a smug smirk on his face at the other’s astonished look, ‘Just enjoy, idjit’, he pecked a cheek, ‘Let me show you what I had planned from the start’.

Crowley was going to say something about Plan A being for asshole, but that hot hand on his hip, the strong arm between his head and the pillow, the large chest pressed against his back and the magical lips on his nape turned him into pudding.

‘I had it a lot easier than you’, Bobby commented, ‘I could experiment with fake Crowleys who would do expected things’, his free hand reached for the pleasurable area behind Crowley’s balls, ‘But you’ve fallen into the arms of real me, and I won’t give you any mercy’, he sped up the pace a bit, the head of his cock hitting the right spot inside the man in his arms, who moaned, ‘I want your pleasure. There’ll be no regrets and no taking backs. You’re my princess and you’ll come for me’. 

Maybe it was because Crowley was not used to hear those things, maybe it was because Robert Singer felt too damn good, but the fact was that soon he was moaning and grunting and grabbing the sheets while coming again.

It made his partner grin in awe.

And then shake with laugh.

‘It’s not funny, hunter’, Crowley tried to protest, but the simulation of the familiar feel good hormones was making him giddy, ‘And it surely is not fair’.

‘I’m just happy it was a lot easier than I thought it would be, demon’, he dried a bit of the sweat in the other’s forehead, ‘Want to clean up?’

‘Please’, he sighed, ‘Don’t care that much, but the sheets felt nicer before’.

Bobby did it – in an instant, all sweat and sperm were gone.

‘You must be very proud of yourself’, Crowley said with a lazy smile, moving slightly to enjoy the textures against his skin and find out if Robert still was hard and inside him.

(Yes, he was.)

‘Because I can do magic in my own Heaven?’, Bobby shrugged, ‘No big deal’.

‘That too, but I meant doing magic with your cock’, Crowley purred, ‘I just saw stars, darling’.

The hunter moved his hips slowly, ‘I wouldn’t call it pride’.

‘Care to name what you’re feeling, then?’

‘No need to classify things. I thought you may suffer through this, and I’m glad it didn’t happen’, the hips rotated slow and insistently, ‘As I said, I can control everything around. I can take you to nice places, woo you with chatting and strolling and nice food’, one hand reached for the limp cock and caressed it, ‘But I can’t control what goes inside you’.

‘Oh, you can’, Crowley moaned and changed his position a bit, just to feel the hard member inside him brushing against some very nice spots again, ‘Exhibit A’.

‘You know what I mean, idjit’, Bobby sucked hard on the neck, reinforcing that hickey if the soul worked as bodies, ‘I mean your heart and mind’.

‘I get it’, Crowley licked his dry lips, ‘It’s team’s work’.

‘Yeah’, Bobby’s movements intensified, ‘Now you’re getting closer to what this is supposed to be’.

It crossed Crowley’s mind he was still missing some piece of this puzzle, and he remembered vaguely Bobby saying he was expected to ask well thought questions to find out whatever it was. 

However, it was difficult to well-think anything with a hand massaging his cock while he was filled in that wonderful manner, and he decided Flash News could wait.

Bobby’s movements and caresses built a slow and steady arousal, and Crowley couldn’t say when he had got hard as rock again.

Suddenly it occurred to him that he could perfectly spend eternity like this. 

He could even accept blissful ignorance, if that was the case, as long as he shared this existence with Robert.

That thought made him more feel than think that he had never belonged like this to anywhere or anyone and, as if it had broken any walls still standing, Crowley surrendered completely, moving his hips and touching himself.

The man behind him groaned very low, obviously glad at that development, using now his free hand to tease a nipple.

That felt glorious.

‘Let’s make some angels happy, love’, Crowley spoke in a rough voice, ‘Give me everything you have’.

Bobby growled again, pushed Crowley’s leg and pressed him on his stomach against the mattress to ravish him from behind roughly. 

It was intense and uncontrolled, like many of their trysts on Earth, what washed both of them in good memories.

Bobby came inside Crowley murmuring loving words, what was brand new and made the former King of Hell follow suit.

When it was over, they stayed in the same position, basking in the good feelings.

Their breathings were altered as if they needed air to live, what gave both a familiar light-headed sensation. 

‘We never tire?’, Crowley asked, lazily.

‘We don’t really have bodies’, Bobby joined their hands, his chest rubbing against the other’s back, ‘So, no’.

‘It means you can keep hard and inside me as much as you wish?’

‘Yeah’.

Oh. 

Crowley wiggled his hips playfully, ‘And that is what you intend to do?’

‘If you want to start your training, yes. But we can just cuddle for a while’, Bobby pressed his nose against the other’s hair to smell it, ‘It’s up to you’.

‘What do you mean by training?’, Crowley frowned, ‘I’m not some kind of lap dog, even if the most recent evidence points to the contrary’.

Bobby chuckled, ‘You must have noticed you need some serious control over that thing of yours’.

Crowley opened his mouth to admonish the other man, telling him he should be given the details on the said training, and not some half-assed explanation; or maybe he was to say he was kind of offended that his orgasms were called a thing. 

However, his partner realized his intentions of raising an argument and slammed on him again.

He was out of breath at the shot of pleasure in his still sensitive, well, body, ‘What the Hell, Singer?!’

‘Showing you the start of the training’, the man answered, never stopping, ‘Let’s see how much time it takes for you to learn how to come on command’.

Crowley found out he couldn’t speak at all if he wanted to focus in his learning process.

So, he focused.

And, being a fast learner, soon he was able to turn the tables.

It was with immense satisfaction that Crowley managed to put Singer on his back and ride him leisurely, taking his sweet time to touch and be touched, until he gifted the man under him with an orgasm perfectly timed with a snap of his fingers.

Heaven was going to be much, much fun.


	7. The revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. We’ll have an epilogue.  
> Thanks to everybody out there!

Something very similar to post-sex naps could happen, in Heaven, and the couple indulged in at some point.

It was not exactly sleeping, but they were filled with a kind of satisfaction that was, well, fulfilling and made them want to stay quiet and relaxed against each other, not thinking of anything in particular - just feeling.

The smooth continuous of nice emotions lasted an amount of time impossible to precise. 

When Crowley came to his senses again (probably Heaven’s version of waking up), he noticed he was not just lying sprawled on Bobby, but grabbing him: his head was on the crook between the other man’s shoulder and neck, one of his legs across his stomach, an arm encircling his chest.

He raised his head to look into Bobby’s face and find out if he was smothering the man.

He was greeted with a knowing smile at their positions, ‘You know I’m not going anywhere, don’t you?’

‘Yes’, the former demon smiled, ‘I think I know, now’.

‘Then I don’t mind it’, Bobby pulled Crowley’s head to settle on him again, ‘You can act possessive, or protective, or whatever it is you’re doing. It feels good’.

‘I am under the impression I was just called irrational’.

‘It’s far from a problem, here’, Bobby rested a hand on the thigh on him and spoke softly, ‘We are supposed to act on everything that we feel like doing’.

Crowley nodded, ‘I’m starting to get that’.

‘I know it’s not easy for you’, he caressed the other man’s back, ‘I had good times with Karen and the boys, when I was down there. I had the chance to know family and love, and still it was never easy for me to think of the many I helped and saved, instead of hammering myself over the times I could have done better’. 

‘Some humans should be permitted to see their souls’, Crowley murmured, ‘I saw yours when I touched it for the deal, and then when I picked it to keep it in Hell. It was the most beautiful thing’, he nuzzling against the other’s warm skin, ‘Seeing it would have done some good for your self-steem’.

‘Well, that’s what Heaven is about’.

‘Lifting your spirits?’

Bobby scoffed while Crowley laughed at his own joke.

‘Seeing one’s soul, idjit’, Bobby adjusted in the bed for their bodies to fit even better, ‘These things we’ve been feeling. These nice things that start pouring out of us when we stop trying to control emotions. That’s what our souls are. That is how we can see them’.

Crowley went silent for some moments, before speaking softly, ‘It’s being completely and irreparably exposed’.

‘Those things you said to me earlier, at Wisteria, about you failing because you kind of mimicked your mother when you had your kid’, Bobby pulled Crowley closer, ‘Heaven gives peace because it shows us what we really are, not what we came to be because life threw shit on us and we did what we could to not suffocate in it’, he planted a kiss on Crowley’s forehead, ‘Some people throw shit back and smear everyone around; some people fight to keep clean; some people give up and drown in shit – each one does what feels like the only way to keep on going, and it’s not always pretty. Most times it isn’t, in fact’.

There was a smile in Crowley’s voice, ‘Leaving aside the bad word, you sound like the angels with the hairless apes throwing their feces around speech’.

‘If you’re going to get nasty and compare to the winged dicks, I’ll stop sharing my knowledge with you’.

‘Oh, no!’, Crowley moved to his side, supporting his head on his hand, elbow on the bed, baiting lashes at Bobby, ‘I love it when you impart your endless knowledge with me’.

‘You’re joking but you did love that on Earth, already’.

‘Yes, pet. One of the things I most adored about you was the fact you were the cleverest and most well-read hunter I had ever met’, Crowley smiled, ‘Considering most humans I met were idiots, monsters were irrational at their worst times, demons were generally empty and angels were too strict to be any fun, I’d say you turned into my favorite creature almost in the moment we met’.

Bobby smiled back.

However, there was something different in that smile.

It was like he had just realized something.

Crowley raised his brows in expectation, ‘What?’

Bobby took the hand that was lying on his side and rested it over his heart, ‘You talk as if you already loved me, back then’, he grinned, ‘You may have described love at first sight, in your own way’.

That comment took Crowley off-guard, and he didn’t know how to answer.

‘That’s ok’, Bobby said, caressing the hand under his, ‘I was human and didn’t know what to do about how I felt for you. A demon would not recognize love even if it slapped him in the face’.

Crowley spoke in a small voice, ‘As a demon I was not expected to feel it’.

‘As a surly and full-time grieving alcoholic hunter I shouldn’t, either’, Bobby chuckled, ‘Even more, I shouldn’t have been able to feel anything for a demon wearing a male’s vessel’.

Crowley looked away, ‘It had everything to go wrong’.

‘And, still, it didn’t. We were just interrupted’, Bobby pulled the joined hands to his lips, attracting the other’s eyes to his again, ‘I think someway I already loved you back there, Crowley’.

That name in the ex-hunter’s voice sent shivers through the ex-demon’s body.

‘You like it’, Bobby grinned, slapping the other man’s ass playfully.

‘And the wonders never cease’, Crowley shook his head, knowing his arousal had been obvious (by the shivers and by the way he rubbed himself against Bobby’s thigh), and not minding it at all.

‘No, they don’t’, Bobby leaned closer to peck his lips, ‘I may be calling you that name more often, if you don’t mind’.

‘That’s how you called me on Earth’, Crowley sighed, ‘Brings good memories’, he nose-kissed Bobby, ‘I always found it a turn on – it reminded me I was infinitely more powerful than my hunter when all I wanted was to be on my knees for him’.

‘I wouldn’t use the word infinitely’, Bobby smirked, ‘I have won some battles of wits against Your Highness’.

‘I meant just in magic powers, pet’, Crowley nodded graciously, ‘I’d never deny how alike our minds were’.

‘If you say so’, Bobby shrugged, kissed the hand he was holding and rested it again on his chest, ‘Nice to know you’re bringing some fantasies on for us to play. I like the king on his knees idea’.

‘You can definitively count on my imagination’.

They kept staring into each other’s eyes for a while.

There was a new kind of warmth between them.

It was related to the sex, surely, once it had never been so carefree on Earth and both delighted in the new level of intimacy; however, it was laced with so much affection it felt brand new and compelled them to wish for more.

Crowley frowned at the thought.

Described like that, it sounded too similar to addiction.

What they had in Heaven was a craving, but not like the craving of an addict (which he knew very well, being one in his human life and then as a demon). That had been like an itch he could never scratch completely and just burned a bit less in the few moments when he hit the drug again. 

(It had been like that with alcohol, then with blood: despair, pain, fear, a brief relief, and the cycle started all over again.)

What he had now felt like addiction, yes, but to something that could be obtained for free, came from an endless supply and brought out the happier and healthier things in him.

(It’s kind of crazy that something like that exists, when you think about it.

And it’s crazy to think some people were so deprived of it on Earth.) 

Crowley gulped down at the realization that he was, really, in Heaven, that he belonged there and that he finally could have all the love he always longed for.

He felt an urge to resume the part of that conversation when Robert had said he may have loved him on Earth. He wanted to sort out his feelings on it, and he had already understood that in his current existence, talking about things was of great help.

So, he broke the silence with the sincerest phrasing he could formulate about the topic, ‘I can’t say what I felt for you back there, Robert’.

He tasted the regret in his own voice.

The other man’s eyes were calm and understanding.

Crowley resumed, ‘I was a demon, when we met, and a powerful one for the most part of our time…’, he hesitated to say the word, ‘…together’, Bobby nodded and he fell supported enough to go on, ‘I wanted you and I did everything to keep you as close as possible – I entered your house uninvited, I added clauses to your contract, I absconded your soul to Hell. I don’t know what to call that twisted thing’.

‘You had something twisted to give because you were a twisted being’, Bobby spoke softly, ‘No surprise, there’.

‘Yes, I see that. But now…’

Crowley stopped and breathed deeply. 

It was not easy to order his thoughts around what he wanted to say.

He never had that conversation with anyone.

‘I don’t have a frame of reference, Robert, but this… thing – the affection, the bond, the pleasure in everything you are, the desire and the adoration and…’

His voice faltered.

It was more difficult than anticipated.

His feelings were so raw he couldn’t form the words.

Bobby came to the rescue, ‘You don’t have to say it. I can feel it, and it’s enough’.

Crowley nodded, giving up expressing anything coherent in that moment.

‘Come here, you idjit’, Bobby pulled Crowley into his arms, again, ‘I love you and I’m saying it because it already comes out nice and easy for me. But you just arrived here. Take your time. Don’t be so hard on yourself now that we know what is going on in our souls’, he patted the other’s back, ‘You hear me?’

‘Yes, I hear you’, Crowley sniffed, half-overdramatic, half-truly moved, ‘May we start again?’

‘Suit yourself’.

Crowley raised his head and looked at Bobby.

He licked his lips and gave a brave smile, ‘Hello, Robert’.

‘Hello, Crowley’, feeling the other shivering in pleasure again at the name, Bobby went on, ‘Are you going to give me a kiss or you’ll just stay there and look pretty?’

The former demon chuckled, recognizing the inside joke.

They kissed leisurely, as if some difficult discussion point had been dealt with and closed.

When they parted, the former hunter caressed the other man’s lower lip with his thumb and spoke softly, ‘You know, I was authorized to come clean with you’.

Crowley, startled, parted from Bobby to sit on the bed, pulling the sheets to his lap, his eyes searching the room frantically, ‘The angels were here?!’

‘No!’, Bobby sat against the head of the bed, ‘They prefer to visit in dreams’.

‘Oh’.

‘You seem relieved’.

‘Wouldn’t you?’

‘Where is the man who didn’t mind giving a show to eventual winged spies?’

‘I want to be very aware when it happens, love’.

‘You’re right. No sense in missing the opportunity to pester the owners of the place we live in’.

‘Well, I must say it’s amateurish that something seemingly so crucial didn’t require an official meeting’.

Crowley spoke like the snob he was at heart.

And then he frowned in worry, ‘Unless the news are so bad they didn’t have the guts to deliver them’. 

‘No bad news’, Bobby grinned, ‘They just don’t feel like seeing you in person, yet’. 

‘Do you think I annoy them that much?’, he got even more worried, ‘If this is a problem, you must warn me, Robert. I’m not used to be sedate or demure. If there’s a chance I’ll blow up this whole scheme-’

‘You’re here to be yourself, Fergus, not some mimicry for the sake of angelic sensibilities’, Bobby cut him off fiercely, ‘If I was to spend eternity with a fake, I’d have picked some fantasy, not wished the real you here’. 

Crowley blinked in confusion, ‘But yourself said they own the place’.

‘And the place just exists now because a bunch of humans found ways to put it back on track – what included giving people the chance to do and feel what makes them happier, no matter what it is’, he frowned deeply, ‘Angels were never human. Most of them don’t have the slightest notion of what it is like. The times when they wouldn’t hear us out are over’.

Bobby stopped talking and realized Crowley was staring at him, mouth agape.

‘Wow’, the former demon said with awe, ‘Such a leader’, he rested a hand on his lap, over his own penis, ‘That was unexpectedly arousing, Singer. And not just because you were defending my rights’.

Bobby blushed in embarrassment, smiling fondly, ‘You idjit’.

‘Hey’, Crowley’s eyes shone with hope, ‘You think I can work in New Heaven, too?’

‘Sure’, Bobby cocked a brow, ‘You’ll add a lot to the team’.

‘I promise to conceal any erection that happens when you take charge and make inspirational speeches like that’.

‘That would be clever of you’, Bobby lifted a hand to caress Crowley’s cheek, ‘No sense in giving ammo to the winged dicks’.

Crowley gave a lopsided smile, ‘More denial, more fun teasing the bastards; less denial, more time to work with your people’.

‘Don’t you love a win-win scenario?’

‘Few things could be so nice’.

They met halfway for a kiss.

‘Nice would be to fuck you again’, Bobby licked his lips when they parted, ‘Or having you fucking me, now that things are nice and easy’.

Crowley pressed his legs closer to deal with a renewed hardening, ‘Didn’t you have something important to tell me? Can we focus on that for the time being?’

‘Of course’, Bobby gave him a knowing smile, ‘I’ll help you concentrate’.

Next thing Crowley knew, they were sitting in Bobby’s old kitchen in Sioux Falls.

The owner of the place was dressed in a robe and leaning against the sink.

Crowley was sitting, wearing black well-tailored trousers and a black shirt, his silver tie loose.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting every surface on warm colors.

The former demon was so fascinated by the golden light dancing on his companion’s face while he walked towards him that it took him some moments to realize there was a wooden table between them, with a complete tea-set on it, and that Bobby was bringing some hot water to pour in the pretty porcelain kettle.

The former hunter took his time with the water, sat on the chair in front of Crowley and then gestured to the tea set, ‘Like it?’

‘Very good choice’, Crowley smirked, ‘I’d have picked something more gothic, but we’ll have time to broaden your horizons in what regards decoration’.

The wickedest of expressions formed on Bobby’s face, ‘You choose the flavor’.

‘What?’, Crowley blinked in surprise, ‘How?’ 

‘Wish it’, Bobby shrugged, ‘Like in the good old times when you could make things up from thin air’, he picked the kettle, ‘And do your best. I want to try something exotic and expensive’.

Crowley tilted his head, confused on why he was supposed to do such a thing in a place formed basically for Robert’s memories, and not his.

Deciding to comply, even if just to see what that mischievous face was about, he wished for a very particular and difficult to find oriental blend he used to have in his personal collection.

‘Done’, he informed his partner.

Bobby nodded and poured the contents in the two tea-cups.

To Crowley’s shock, the water was colored and a familiar scent reached his nostrils.

He picked the cup to sip and it felt exactly like what he had wanted.

Bobby was doing the same, and then looked at him, ‘Is that it?’

‘Yes’.

‘Quite good’.

‘But how can this be? This is your Heaven’, he stared at the warm liquid, ‘How can you taste a memory that is not yours?’, he was astonished, ‘Does it mean you are able to access my memories, too?’

‘Much better than that’, Bobby grinned, ‘This place is not just mine, anymore’, he raised the cup for a toast, ‘Welcome to our Heaven, Fergus’.

Crowley was unable to move, so Bobby reached out to touch his cup with the one he had and resumed sipping calmly.

He seemed amenable to wait for the shock in the other’s face to go away but, once some time passed and it didn’t happen, he put the cup on the table, ‘I better tell you’.

He motioned for Crowley to drink his tea, in what he was gingerly obeyed.

‘We’ve done many renovations in Heaven. People can visit more, now, but still it’s a place for the souls to live by themselves. The angels prefer we stay in our individual paradises as much as possible to avoid interruptions in the good vibes. And they’re right’, he tilted his head in admittance, ‘Humans are not known for easily getting along’.

The ex-demon nodded, sipping on the tea with large eyes.

‘However, a very old rule says there is one type of humans who must be together, because they can’t be happy in any other way’, Bobby raised his brows in emphasis, ‘The soulmates’. 

Crowley had to set the cup on the table.

His hands were trembling.

(He was not going to spill his favorite tea and make a fool of himself.)

‘Heaven gets its mojo from the happiness of the souls living here. If I’m not happy, I’m not paying the fee, and it can’t be. So, when I got cranky the angels came to fuss around my head and they found out we were soulmates’, Bobby pursed his lips, ‘They didn’t tell me, because you didn’t have a soul, couldn’t be here, the whole thing was impossible and I would have to cope without you, anyway’.

‘They had decided to keep you here, alone, forever?’, Crowley was visibly shaken, ‘How dared they to think of subjecting a soul like yours to that?!’ 

Bobby smiled at the angry face in front of him, ‘To make them justice, the angels don’t know any better than following rules. If you don’t have a soul, the whole concept of being a soulmate is invalid. Simple like that’, he shrugged, ‘Besides, I had a story, here. I helped Castiel to prison-break Metatron. They interrogated me and I stayed under strict vigilance and enduring annoying surprise visits for a good while. I was not their favorite person for some time’.

Crowley reached out, offering his hand on the table, ‘And how did it change?’

Bobby took the offered hand, ‘I was included in the whole rebuilding project because Ash refused to work if I was not in the team. From then on I managed to make myself useful and busy enough to not munch over any feelings of inadequacy’.

‘You’re too much talented to be left aside’, Crowley smiled adoringly, ‘Remind me of thanking this Ash guy personally’.

‘You’ll like him. He is the kind of brainy bastard who is always right and can solve any challenge you bring on’, Bobby grinned in excitement, ‘And he knows everything about you, by the way. He was the first to wonder why I felt so ill-adjusted, kept digging my records in Heaven’s intranet and gave me the idea of asking for my blocked memories of you’.

‘I already love him’, Crowley had calmed down enough to pick his tea-cup again, ‘And I can’t say I don’t understand the angels, Mister Singer. I wonder what kind of mess you did to bring Castiel up here, invade a celestial prison and free Metatron’, they shared a smile, ‘That’s a story I’ll want to know in all sordid details’.

‘With pleasure’.

They sipped their teas in companionable silence – Bobby just enjoying the moment, Crowley processing the information he had just received.

The former King of Hell resumed the conversation, ‘When I died, what made them care to admit I had enough of a soul to be brought here?’

‘My obvious attachment to you’, Bobby clarified, ‘And Naomi’s meddling’.

‘Really?’

‘She came to talk to me’, Bobby pressed his lips together at the memory, ‘She said something must had happened, because you died but didn’t belong to The Empty. She investigated and her hypothesis was the sacrifice that leaded to your death could have redeemed you’. 

Crowley cringed, ‘It was her who came to show you a clip of my best moments and let you decide if you wanted me here?’

Bobby nodded, ‘And it was quite a show’. 

Crowley fidgeted on his seat.

‘I saw flashes of your life as a human and some of the tortures in Hell’s racks. There was not much on that she could pick from what still lingered in your reborn soul’, Bobby sighed, ‘But the memories of the demon were very clear: the times as a low-ranking Hell spawn, the sudden interest of Lilith, the career in the crossroads, the first promotion to King, the success, the second promotion to King…’

Crowley braced for what he knew would come.

‘Decades of orgies, killings, killings that followed orgies, schemes, struggle for power, an existence filled with suspicion, hatred and unnecessary violence’.

Crowley kind of hid his face behind the tea-cup.

‘But among it all, the interest for cute and delicate things, the unexpected mercy on your enemies, the friendship with Dean, the grieve when you saw Lucifer killing your mother, the obsession for a fair and organized Hell, the punishment to demons who abused his powers on humans and didn’t follow the deals’, Bobby chuckled, ‘Not even mentioning the cuddling with Hellhounds and the obvious attachment to me, even before the trial that left you addicted to blood’.

Crowley didn’t know how to feel about that. 

He had expected backlash.

So, he growled defensively, ‘You two watched all this together or she provided a commentary track before leaving the movie on your mail box with a note?’

‘She transferred all to my mind at once’, Bobby explained, not minding the sassiness, ‘When I got my marbles back she announced she was giving me time to ponder if I wanted to bring you here with me to convince you to share my Heaven’, Bobby raised a finger, ‘For your information, she had already decided to make you a good case. If I was to say no, still she would try to convince the rest of the angels that you should be accepted in Heaven, just apart from me’.

Crowley was surprised, ‘I didn’t expect that from her’.

‘But you should’, Bobby wished his tea to re-heat and sipped again, humming in satisfaction, ‘You worked together. It was not easy for her to learn from her own mistakes, being an angel and all, but she had to recognize you were different from other demons, even before the unfinished trial. You were dependable when you were committed to a cause. You were helpful and didn’t change sides just because someone offered a new wind to blow your sails’.

The former demon’s eyes softened, ‘So, she really had some consideration for me’.

‘Yeah, and I think it helped that I didn’t need any time to think if I wanted you’, he smirked, ‘My first coherent thought kind of blasted her with eagerness to have you here’, Bobby raised his brows, ‘I wish you could have seen her face when she realized how valuable we would be to Heaven’s machines if we were together’.

‘Wait a minute. Does it mean that…’, Crowley dealt with the realization that had just come to him, then relaxed in the chair, lips pursed in amusement, ‘…every time we have an orgasm we’re producing tons of celestial energy and proving wrong all the angels who questioned Naomi?’

‘Exactly’, Bobby smiled, ‘Every nice moment counts, but sex has more blast’.

The grin on Crowley’s face was positively evil.

‘Listen to me, now. I want you to know that this…’, Bobby smiled fondly and reached out for the other’s hand, ‘…is the best thing that could have ever happened to me’.

‘I get that, love’, they enlaced their fingers, ‘Thank you for wanting me here’.

‘It’s not like I really had a saying, once we are soul-bonded and all…’, Bobby grinned maliciously, ‘… but I appreciate the feeling’.

Crowley, in a sudden surge of enthusiasm, got up from his chair to circle the table, stand by Bobby’s side and plant a kiss on the other’s knuckles, then on his forehead.

Bobby reached out to enlace his waist and pull him a bit closer, resting his face against the other’s chest.

After some moments of silence, the former hunter spoke, ‘I don’t have to see it to know you’re changing the decoration’.

Crowley chuckled, ‘I guessed so’.

They fell into silence again, not changing their positions.

Bobby was paying attention to the changes around him, curious about Crowley’s choices and glad to witness how comfortable he felt with magical powers of any kind.

‘Really?’, he asked at something really unexpected.

‘I like cooking, Robert. Didn’t have much opportunity, but-’ 

Crowley stopped talking.

He was suddenly hit by the realization that Bobby had not questioned his right to change the furniture of the kitchen; he was just interested because that kitchen would be theirs.

Because everything was theirs, now.

They were already sharing ideas and giving advise effortlessly, words not needed. 

It felt wonderful.

It was like really belonging to some place – to someone – to the point you two are collaborating in a project with equal rights without even mentioning it.

They were naturally equal partners, including magical powers, now.

Bobby could feel the emotions that realization brought on Crowley, and he chuckled.

‘Damn it, Robert’, Crowley dried some tears.

‘That’s ok’, Bobby pulled him to his lap, ‘That’s how it feels to have a soulmate’.

Crowley sat, enlacing the man’s shoulders with his arms and getting comfortable, ‘You were very patient, waiting for me to understand and accept it’.

‘You’re worth it’, Bobby snuggled against him, ‘We deserve this’.

Crowley nodded, kissing the other’s forehead in a gesture he just realized he loved doing, ‘I was just wondering, now…’

‘Uhm?’

‘I was not prepared to share the place with you until now. I must not have been much different from some of the fantasies you had before when I first appeared here’, he sighed at the nice feeling of being so close, ‘Naomi is known for her mind games, and Heaven is a powerful illusion machine. How did you know it was the real me?’

‘The you in my fantasies never hesitated or doubted himself. The angel machine just could pick you at your most insufferable, and it sounded fake’. 

Crowley was surprised at that.

‘I had seen glimpses of the multilayered character you really were, when we were alive. It was not some second-handed illusion that would fool me’, Bobby smiled, ‘When you appeared in my bed, I knew it was the real you because you showed all the suspicions and the impatience and the little quirks I love so much’.

Crowley closed his eyes and hugged Bobby tighter, ‘Would you say it again?’

‘Which part? That you have quirks or that I love you?’

The answer was a low growl and an obvious twitch between the shorter man’s legs.

‘I wonder when you’ll be able to say it back’, Bobby chuckled.

Crowley was surprised, but hopeful, ‘Do you think I will?’

‘It’s a matter of time’, Bobby was confident, ‘We’re soulmates. We’re in Heaven. Love is all around’.

Crowley growled again, ‘I think I’m going to puke’.

Bobby laughed, ‘Not on my watch, Princess’.


	8. Epilogue: Things as they should be

Bobby was reading on his preferred armchair, feet up, clean white socks on.

He enjoyed a great variety of reading material, but today he had chosen a fashion magazine. 

It would come handy next time his partner tried to convince him that some monstrosity was an acceptable haute-couture choice in any realm.

It was now a fond memory the day they strolled through the most expensive shops of New York, Crowley speaking non-stop, explaining everything he could about labels and trends while Bobby listened in amusement.

He just went along, initially, glad to see the enthusiasm on the other’s face. However, soon the hunter realized he was being taken for a redneck who would be out of the loop if not guided by the hand through fashion culture.

The former King of Hell couldn’t have known that Robert Singer was enough versed in fashion to not just keep up, but to a) point out he would prefer they picked some place in bloody Milano for their next clothes-exploring trip and b) explain his choice dropping some relevant names.

Crowley had stopped middle step when he was proven oh, so wrong, and stared at Bobby for a whole minute. 

And then, his face turned into pure adoration, he caressed the bearded cheeks saying he admitted his mistake, praised the gentleman Robert had been for not cutting him off earlier and offered to prepare a typical Italian recipe for their next meal, in homage to having such an amazing man by his side. 

That was why the menu was pasta with sausage ragu, today.

Every joke on Bobby’s liking his sausage spicy was worth Crowley’s worshipping look at him just because he had been, again, surprised at the hunter’s knowledge and savoir-faire.

(Being a Tori Spelling fan had broadened his perspectives in ways he could never imagine – from pedicures to fashion sense, everything was being useful now that he shared his existence with a dandy.)

Bobby closed the magazine and looked toward the double doors that lead to the kitchen.

He could block his senses from what was happening there, but he didn’t want to. He enjoyed the scents (currently, onions and tomatoes) and the sounds of something frizzing and a song to which the cook was singing along (currently, Ever changing time).

Once the previous song was On my own, it meant today was, obviously, a Michael McDonalds Duets day.

Bobby smiled at the memory of the angels who came by to check if everything was all right when the love songs started playing in their Heaven. The poor bastards couldn’t get their wings around the concept of someone being happy and enjoying love ballads that spoke of difficult relationships.

(They came during Whitney Houston Greatest Hits day.

It had been fun.)

The double doors to the kitchen were quite similar to the ones Bobby had in his house in Sioux Falls. However, these were painted in deep red, because Crowley enjoyed the lay-out of the place but was not exactly fond of what he called a wee out of hand rusticity, and added elegant details and some artsy things here and there.

Against all odds, their tastes didn’t clash that much; still, sometimes Bobby disappeared with an object or changed the material of an entire wall, just to see how much time it would take for Fergus to realize it, and then what kind of answer he would come with.

(Sometimes he was appalled, sometimes he found it, for some reason, hilarious. 

He always considered forceful kisses and not very gentle sexy advances fitting forms of revenge.) 

There was an unspoken agreement that the double doors would always be slightly open when Crowley was in the kitchen, because Bobby enjoyed seeing him pass from a side to the other, fetching things and keeping the place organized while having some me time.

(Sometimes things just flew from a side to the other, what was entertaining, too.)

It was fascinating to see a creature who lived so close to gore and violence for his whole existence – as human and, obviously, as demon – developing all kinds of hobbies and interests that couldn’t be more distant from what he came from.

Initially he researched recipes and cooking utensils, and started testing his abilities in simple dishes. 

When it worked out, he decided to try more sophisticated things, and wanted to find out more on the culture and History involved in the ingredients and recipes. 

Bobby was up for anything cultural (and anything Crowley, to be sincere), and engaged easily in the studies and ‘field trips’ required. 

(Teaching advanced Japanese to his partner was especially amusing. It was still a work in progress, but the man was clever, and Bobby loved watching the sincere efforts to modulate the usually raspy and seductive tone of voice into something humble and polite).

Of course, the sharp mind of the former King needed more than some honest cultural learning, and soon he was treading into unexpected territories.

Auto-mechanics, for example: cars were Bobby’s me time, but he was glad to teach some basics when Crowley asked to. The explanation that ‘grease stains were not a problem, anymore’ seemed good enough. 

The afternoons spent in the simulation of the old yard turned into something unpredictable.

Sometimes Crowley would pay attention and be really invested in reforming a car. He especially enjoyed choosing colors and working on the most refined details. 

In other days, however, he was just for the country songs playing in the background while Bobby tried not to be too distracted by the carefree dance steps and unexpectedly informal outfits the man brought on.

The only stable thing about those afternoons was that at some point Crowley would blackmail Bobby – a kiss in exchange for a tool was some of the most common and appreciated. 

Yes, no matter what the circumstances were, Crowley still enjoyed scheming.

Luckily, working on New Heaven gave him plenty of opportunity for that.

Naomi was again on top of what Crowley called the winged food chain, and even if she would deny it under her own torture methods, it was obvious she had a soft spot for him and his talents. 

Bobby chuckled to himself at the memory of the time he had mentioned her preference for Crowley to the former demon. 

xxx

‘Jealous, pet?’

‘Just wondering. From where do you know each other, again?’

‘You’re definitively jealous’.

‘Starting to get, once you seem to be stalling’.

‘Time-travel thing. She needed someone to do the dirty work, I was available, she was forced to accept my help, she hated every minute of it but we accomplished the mission and she begrudgingly admitted I had integrity and was worth the effort to clean the sulfur I left behind’.

‘So she just acts like she should despise you because all angels are stuck up dicks?’

‘Quite so’.

‘And she didn’t kill you when she had the opportunity because she is torn between hate and admiration?’

‘I’d say hate is a given, and you can add some loathe for her own respectful thoughts about me’, Crowley baited his lashes, ‘You don’t need to worry. I’m sure her thoughts are all respectful, nowadays. And I just have eyes for you, beardy’. 

‘All right’.

‘Besides, I know about you and Ellen Harvelle and I don’t make a fuss about it’.

‘What do you mean you don’t make a fuss? You squint at her when you think she is not seeing’.

‘We’re souls. Of course she is seeing’.

‘Your point?’

‘She was married to you in at least one timeline’.

‘And you are bonded to me in the Heaven of this one’.

‘Oh, well…’

‘Shut up, Crowley’.

‘Bollocks’.

‘What?’

‘It’s not fair you use that name. You know I get aroused and can’t win the argument’.

‘Yeah, I’ve noticed you enjoyed when we did it in your old throne room and I came saying that name’.

‘One less thing in my to-do list, lover’.

xxx

Bobby smiled fondly.

That idjit.

His idjit.

It was a lovely thing to see him making plans with Ash and Charlie. It was like seeing geniuses from different fields reunited in the same room, discussing things with such clever machinations that even Bobby – who was far from dumb and whom they relied on for the logistics and more realistic approaches – sometimes had difficulties following.

Crowley’s friendship with the red-head had another upside: she had given him a taste for Fantasy and Science Fiction, and he immersed himself in a bunch of movies and books just for the sake of discussing them with her in the next meeting.

(Fergus was adorable when he did his homework, and Bobby made sure to tell him that, just to see the man squirm in joy.)

Bobby got up from the armchair and put on his slippers. He intended on going to the kitchen to pester the cook, just to keep him sharp.

He had been half way when the double doors opened sudden and completely.

That was Crowley’s usual invitation to be joined in, but something felt hurried about it. In a shared Heaven, you could feel when something was wrong through a multitude of clues like the slightest difference in the sound of familiar doors.

Bobby frowned at the intensity of the emotions coming from the kitchen and decided to tease to test the waters, ‘Prepare yourself, demon. I’m going in there’.

There was no answer, what was unusual.

The pet name demon usually brought up some hunter comment in return.

When Bobby reached the kitchen, Fergus was staring through a side window, the water and all ingredients that had been boiling in saucepans and frying pans frozen in time.

‘Something the matter?’

‘Come here, Robert’, he motioned, ‘Take a look at what just appeared in our horizon’.

He obeyed, standing by the other man’s side.

His jaw fell.

There was, across the field currently displayed, a projection of an immense W in the sky.

Both knew what that meant. 

They had some figurative codes with Ash, developed for easy and quick info to be passed on. Sometimes the sky would be all red and they knew Charlie was asking for a visit, or a guitar riff would play, and it was Ash calling for a meeting in the Roadhouse.

(Any movie villain score was for Angel Trouble.)

The projected W, quite similar to the bat-signal, was an inside joke on the possibility of them having to deal with the Winchesters.

(Because with the Winchesters you must be always prepared.)

‘It seems we have the Wonder Boys in the Roadhouse. You’re going, aren’t you?’, Crowley asked, looking at his partner’s face, ‘It doesn’t seem to be an emergency, but I suppose whoever is there would like to see you’.

‘Of course I’m going’, Bobby answered, already moving to the other room, ‘And you are, too’.

‘I’m not sure I will be welcomed. It depends, in fact, on who is there…’, Crowley sighed, ‘Oh, what am I saying? It’s probably both of them, if I know those morons. Living or dead, they are like Siamese twins. I just wonder-’, he noticed Bobby’s agitation and sudden changes of clothes, ‘What are you doing?’

‘I don’t know’, he paced anxiously from one side to the other, different vests materializing on him and being dismissed, ‘What do I wear?’

‘For Gods, sake, Robert. It’s your boys, not Prom night. They will love to see you, no matter what you wear’.

‘Yes, yes, I know. I just miss them so much’, he threw a look at Crowley, ‘Take off the apron, Fergus’, Bobby ordered and turned away to deal with his own problems: he conjured a mirror, chose a cap, gave up putting on a vest, took off the cap and passed his fingers through his hair nervously, ‘I hope they are not in trouble. Those idjits’, he felt satisfied with a decent plaid shirt, new jeans, no vest and no cap, ‘How do I look?’

‘Handsome, as always’.

Bobby looked at Crowley through the mirror and blinked in surprise.

The man had not just taken off the apron, but put on a nice black shirt and leather shoes, combed his hair, and was now patiently waiting.

‘What?’, he asked, confused at the wide eyed ex-hunter who had turned to inspect him from head to toe, ‘Thought you wanted me to look like someone’s well behaved stepdaddy’.

Bobby smiled fondly, ‘You look great, Fergus’, he took the other man’s hand and kissed it, ‘They won’t believe you’re well behaved, but, well, who cares about it?’

xxx

They opened the door of the Roadhouse and immediately spotted the brothers in an animated chat with Ash, who was behind the counter fussing in one of his complicated hacking machines.

The moment they heard the door, Sam and Dean turned, left their bar stools and ran to Bobby.

Crowley stepped aside and just watched the reunited family hugging and laughing in complete happiness.

He was happy, too, that they were happy.

All of them.

When the boys managed to look at anything else but their surrogate father, they turned to him.

‘Hey, Crowley!’, Dean extended a hand, ‘Good to see you’.

He hid his surprise as well as he could and took the offered hand, ‘Same here, Squirrel’.

‘Ash said you are working for Heaven, now’, Dean shook the hand and then pulled him into a hug, clapping his back soundly.

The gesture took Crowley off-guard, but he was able to hug back and make some affirmative sound. 

(The former demon could go without the manly show of affection, but Bobby deserved he endured it.

Besides, it was nice to be finally acknowledged as part of the team.)

Dean parted, ‘Hope you’re terrorizing the angels for us’.

Crowley couldn’t help but smiling, ‘I’m doing my best’.

‘Yes, he is’, Bobby confirmed, rolling his eyes.

Dean grinned and slapped Crowley’s shoulder as a fond parting gesture, given space to his brother.

Sam approached more cautiously, ‘So, Crowley’, the giant offered a hand, ‘Congratulations for… you know… being here’.

Crowley hesitated but, seeing the nice – and knowing – look on the giant’s face, accepted the hand for the expected polite exchange, ‘Thank you, Moose’.

Their eyes locked while their hands touched, and it was clear Sam was seizing the opportunity to look through him.

The younger Winchester’s eyes softened.

He liked what he found out in Crowley.

‘Ash told us you’ve been working all together’, Dean spoke, ignoring whatever silent understanding had just passed between his brother and the former King, and got back to the stool he had been occupying before.

‘When I get the location right, Charlie will be here’, Ash talked without taking his eyes from the screen in front of him.

Dean nodded and turned to the newcomers again, ‘What were you two up to now, eh?’

‘Now we were just home’, Bobby answered, pulling a chair for Crowley, then one for himself. 

‘We came as quick as possible to see what’s going on with you two’, Crowley sat beside Bobby and raised a curious brow, ‘Are you dead or just in the middle of one of your delightfully moronic plans?’ 

Bobby accepted a beer from Ash, while Crowley thanked the man but didn’t accept anything.

(Bobby fought a smile. Crowley LARPing as well-behaved middle-aged husband was funny.)

‘No, we’re not dead’, Sam sat on his spot again and explained the bizarre situation like the usual thing it was for the Winchesters, ‘We’re looking for a deceased Man of Letters. We couldn’t involve Cas, and everybody knows Ash is your man when walking through Heaven – if you’re without a guide’.

Bobby nodded at the reference of his time as an inside man.

Ash made a thumbs up still without taking his eyes off the screen where he was working intensely to find whatever the boys needed.

‘Hey’, Dean suddenly frowned in confusion, ‘What do you mean you were home?’

‘We live together’, Bobby answered, taking a sip of his beer.

‘Like in some kind of hotel?’, the older brother was trying to understand, ‘Heaven has such things?’

‘No’, Crowley smiled sweetly, ‘He means together-together’.

‘We share a Heaven’, Bobby clarified.

Dean froze, beer bottle mid-movement.

‘Wait’, Sam leaned forward as if starting to get what was going on, ‘Ash told us once that just soulmates could live in the same Heaven’.

Ash made a distracted affirmative sound.

The brothers looked at each other, then at their surrogate father and the former King of Hell.

The older men were looking right back at them: Bobby with challenging raised brows, Crowley with the cheekiest grin on his face.

‘Wow’, was all Sam could say when the new information registered.

‘That’s all right!’, Dean yelled, raising his hands as if he needed to pacify a crowd, ‘That’s ok! I mean, this is Heaven, right? It’s not like you’re doing anything-’, now the older guys rolled their eyes and understanding washed over him, ‘Son of a bitch, you’re doing it!’, he turned to his brother, ‘Sam, they’re doing it!’ 

‘Angels are genderless, Dean’, the youngest Winchester tried to rationalize, ‘They don’t care who does what to whom’, he turned to Bobby and Crowley, ‘Right?’

‘Yeah, right’, Bobby said, ‘Not that it would make any difference if they cared’.

‘Oh, Robert, you’re such a rebel!’, Crowley smiled proudly, ‘He does what he wants. Totally Team Free Will’.

‘Stop it, Fergus’, he said, but smiled fondly.

‘Praising you? Never, love’.

The Winchesters were staring, not sure of what to say next.

‘You’ll be ok as long as you don’t keep imagining it’, Ash chimed in, still working non-stop.

Both brothers grimaced because, yes, their only problem with it was that they couldn’t help themselves but imagine those two doing, well, what couples were expected to do.

‘What the Hell…’, Dean groaned, then straightened his back, suddenly uncertain, ‘May I mention Hell, here? Because I keep mentioning Hell’.

Bobby looked at Crowley, ‘You’re really alike. He could be your son’.

‘Nope’, the former demon scrunched his nose, ‘I’m more sensitive and made more stupid decisions through life and un-life’, he shrugged, ‘Moose would probably like me better if he could trust me’.

Sam blinked, surprised, ‘I have no reasons to not trust you, anymore, Crowley’, he shrugged, proving Crowley’s point on their similarities, ‘You’re in Heaven and Bobby, well, married you. It can’t go any more redeemed than that’.

‘Is that a jab on me?’, the older hunter squinted.

‘No, it’s on me’, Crowley said, smiling, ‘But you’re right, Sam. I did enough to be redeemed’, he took Bobby’s hand in his, ‘And to me it means I deserve to be loved by the most generous soul I had the honor to meet’.

Bobby held the hand back and smiled at his partner.

‘I’m kind of disappointed on you two’, Charlie spoke from the door, hands on her hips,   
‘Love is beautiful, no matter the genders involved’.

Both boys got up, Sam stuttering he had not said anything, Dean babbling some undecipherable words.

The girl waved a hand, ‘Oh, that’s all right. It’s a lot to take in’, she stepped inside, the door closed behind her in a badass way that was just for show and she opened her arms, ‘Come give me a hug, bitches!’ 

Sam and Dean celebrated their reunion with their surrogate sister and started exchanging stories about the last years and what they needed from her now.

Bobby and Crowley, after each receiving a warm hug from the red head, helped with some info, but things were running smoothly, and soon they could just sit and watch the younger people make plans.

At some point, the former demon looked at Bobby and saw the plain affection on his face at the Winchesters.

‘You did a wonderful job with them’, Crowley spoke softly.

‘And you picked it up decently where I left’, Bobby took the other’s hand in his.

Crowley smiled dreamily, ‘We would have been terrific fathers’.

‘You would be unbearable if you were not so cute’.

They looked up in surprise – Charlie was the one to mock them.

They chuckled, used to her finding them too saccharine for her taste.

The Winchesters smiled, in peace with the situation.

When they turned to Ash again, Charlie still waited a moment, just to give the most enthusiastic thumbs up ever to the couple, behind the brother’s backs. 

The last doubts that Sam and Dean would be all right vanished, and Bobby patted Crowley’s knee, getting up from his chair and inviting the other silently to stand with him closer to a nearby window.

They stood side by side, just watching the empty road, until Bobby put his arm around Crowley’s shoulders, ‘We are going to be’.

He knew what Bobby meant, ‘Do you think…?’

‘We’re one of New Heaven’s most successful projects. We have credit enough to afford almost anything’, Bobby smirked, ‘And Naomi is working with us’.

Crowley breathed deeply, more confident that they would be permitted to stay larger periods of time with Gavin. The boy had been ecstatic to see his father when he visited, adored Bobby since their first interaction and wanted to redo his relationship with his family as soon as possible.

They just needed the green lights from the angels to start the McLeods reunion and, hopefully, a new project on giving more space to family gatherings in New Heaven.

Of course, it may require the angels to open for the possibility of receiving Rowena when she died, too, but, well, that was something to be pondered on later.

And, maybe, just maybe, it meant New Heaven must consider the possibility of rescuing entities that nowadays belonged to Purgatory or the Empty – like Benny, Gabriel and, somehow in the future, Castiel. 

They would cross that bridge when they got there.

It would not be easy, but Bobby and Crowley were known for the success in the most improbable situations, and the angels better be prepared.

They would do anything to make the road ahead a lot happier than the road so far.

 

The End


End file.
